


Shadows in the Darkness

by Mykael



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), The Question (Comics)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Sex, Conspiracy Theories, Crimes & Criminals, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Romance, Vigilantism, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-26 08:06:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mykael/pseuds/Mykael
Summary: Red Hood and Arsenal have stumbled onto something big. At first glance, what seemed like some back room, corporate deal, turned out to be something much, much worse. The tip of the proverbial Ice Berg, as they say. They'll need help, and soon, the entire BatFamily finds themselves pulled into the darkest corners of human society, the places where the worst of the worst go to hide the things that stoke the fires of Conspiracy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, as I mentioned in the notes on Growing Up, I had this idea for a "Lair of the Shadowbroker" type of story, but in the Batman Universe. This story is going to focus mostly on the story itself, but there may be little romantic side-plots along the way, because what's a good action story without a little romance, oui? :D
> 
> If you're not into Conspiracy Theory, subterfuge, and intrigue, this story isn't for you. This story is going to have lots of Conspiracy in it, and also, lots of violence. xD So without further ado...

The sound of screeching bats echoed through the cave, deep below Wayne manor as its master, Bruce Wayne, a.k.a The Batman, was sitting at the Batcomputer. He was currently going over the evidence he’d collected from Downtown Gotham, pertaining to a string of murders, four so far.

Dick and Tim were sparring behind him, both in full gear and going all out. Well actually, Dick was holding back a little bit, but he wasn’t going to tell Tim that. Damian was currently off with the Teen Titans in Jump City and so Tim was filling the role of Batman’s sidekick, Robin.

“Stop holding back, Dick!” Tim grunted, blocking a kick from the acrobat and retaliating with a punch. Dick took the blow, leaning back a bit, and used Tim’s energy against him; he grabbed the teen’s arm, spun around and threw him across the room. Tim rolled with it, letting his momentum carry him forward into a somersault, then landed on his feet, spinning around on the spot.

“Relax Tim, I’m not holding back at all! You’re just--”

“Getting better. Yeah, yeah. That lame excuse might’ve worked when I was younger--” Tim began with a small smile, lunging in at Dick. He threw a series of punches and Dick dodged each one of them, until Tim pulled a feint and swept his leg at Dick’s ankles. The acrobat yelped as he fell to the ground, catching himself on one hand. In a, unnecessary, display of his Capoeira skills, he spun around on his hands, and kicked Tim, sending him tumbling head over heels across the room. Dick jumped back onto his feet and trotted across the room and knelt over Tim.

“Tim, you alright?” Dick asked, holding his hand out. Tim grumbled a bit, unintelligible, and took Dick’s hand. As Dick helped him to his feet, Tim quickly grappled the acrobat to the ground.

“Ha! I win!” Tim cheered as Dick groaned, between a mix of pain of having his the solid ground and having a sixteen-year-old on his back.

“He’s right, Dick. You let your guard down,” Bruce called out without turning from the computer screen. Dick grunted as Tim got off of his back and helped him to his feet. Dick groaned and rubbed the back of his head, but flashed Tim a smirk and patted him on the shoulder.

“I can’t believe I fell for that. Good job, Tim,” he congratulated “Your hand-to-hand is coming along nicely,” Dick complimented, patting Tim’s back. He wrapped an arm around the teen’s shoulders and the two of them made their way toward the computer.

“Master Richard, Master Timothy. Your tea is ready,” came Alfred’s voice as he entered the cave with a tray in hand. Dick and Tim turned toward the elderly butler and made their way over, meeting him halfway. Dick and Tim took their tea cups and sipped their tea, which was quickly followed by ‘mmm’ sounds.

“Earl Gray for you, Master Richard. Your favorite. And for you, Master Tim, I have prepared--”

”Green Tea. Thanks Alfred,” Tim replied, peeling off his domino and sipping his tea. Dick grinned from ear-to-ear, like a kid in a candy store; Alfred’s tea was always the best. The two of them accompanied Alfred toward Bruce, when the sound of a motorcycle started echoing throughout the cave. They turned toward the tunnel to see who it was. Moments later, Jason’s motorcycle came to a stop in the cave, but he didn’t look good. And neither did Roy.

“Hey guys. Little help?” Jason asked. Roy was slumped over in front of Jason looking in pretty rough shape, and Jason’s helmet was gone; all he had was a ripped domino mask. He looked like hell, with fresh wounds all over his body. He tried to stand but he and Roy both fell the floor, unconscious.

“My word! Master Bruce--” Alfred called, but Bruce was already racing to his side, followed quickly by Dick, Tim, and Alfred. Bruce checked their pulses, then turned to Alfred.

“They’re alive! Get the med kits, now!”

Alfred didn’t waste a second and Tim raced after him as the two of them made for the medical bay of the cave. Bruce lifted Jason up into his arms, and Dick grabbed Roy, wrapping the red head’s arm around his shoulders, and his own arm around Roy’s waist dragging him to the medbay.

“How the hell did this happen?! I’ve never seen them this bad before!” Dick called.

“I don’t know,” Bruce replied, tone even, face stoic. It was a good question; who in Gotham had the training and the capability to take on and nearly kill Arsenal and the Red Hood? They were both highly skilled, highly trained vigilantes. Whoever had done this was beyond dangerous. But right now, his top priority was Jason.

Bruce and Dick arrived in the medbay and Alfred and Tim had prepared two medical cots. Bruce lay Jason on one and Dick laid Roy down on the other. Bruce turned to Dick and pointed toward the Batcomputer.

“Contact Leslie Thompkins! We need her help! Now!” Bruce shouted and Dick sprinted off toward the computer without hesitation. Bruce turned his attention back toward Jason, grabbing the young man’s hand and squeezing it.

“You will not die, Jason. Do you hear me?” He said, barely above a whisper. “You. Will. Not. Die. You’re stronger than this.”

“Excuse me Master Bruce, but I need--” Alfred began, but Bruce left without another word, giving Alfred space to work. “Master Timothy! Tend to Master Roy until Miss Thompkins arrives!” Alfred shouted.

“Got it!” Tim called back. It was chaos on the Batcave with Alfred and Tim rushing all over the medbay to help Jason and Roy. Dick had contacted Leslie and she was on her way, and he was currently talking with Barbara, trying to see if she had any inkling as to what Jason and Roy were up to, with her considerable resources and computer skills as Oracle.

Bruce for that matter, donned his cowl and headed for the batmobile. Dick turned in the chair and called after him.

“Bruce, where are you going?!”

“Out. I’m going to find out who or what did this,” Bruce said evenly, jumping in the vehicle. Dick turned, looking back and forth between Barbara and Bruce.

“Let him go. I’ll connect with him and update him when I have something,” Barbara replied. Dick frowned but gave a curt nod, then jumped up from the chair. “Dick,” Barbara called. Dick paused and turned. “Keep me in the loop. I want to know if those two--”

“They’ll be fine, Babs. Don’t worry,” Dick interrupted, racing toward the medbay.

* * *

“Batman, this is Oracle. I have some information for you,” Oracle called over the batmobile’s comm link. Batman allowed her access, turning his attention toward the road. He was currently headed toward the GCPD. He knew Jason had a base there; and old, long forgotten bunker underneath the GCPD headquarters that he’d repurpose into his own ‘batcave’ of sorts. It seemed like a good place to start.

“What do you have for me, Oracle?” Batman asked in a neutral tone. The sound of clacking keys sounded over the comm link for a few seconds before she spoke again.

“I hacked into Jason’s system at his base underneath the GCPD. It wasn’t that hard, though it seemed like he intentionally left it open just for me--”

“Oracle.”

“Right, sorry. Anyway, he and Roy were investigating some kind of deal that was going down at GothCorp headquarters. The details are a little foggy, but from what I can make out, Jason and Roy wanted to investigate it on the grounds that the deal was off the books, and considering GothCorp’s history of dealing in weaponry. Most notably--”

“Cryogenic Weaponry. Yes, I remember. Their chemicals are what turned Victor Fries into Mr Freeze,” Batman replied. Oracle was silent for a few moments before she continued.

“Right. Well anyway, he and Roy went to investigate. As to what they found, you’d have to ask him. You should get over there, though. Fire Fighters have been dispatched to the area. Reports of several explosions inside the building are pouring in--”

“I’m on my way. Thanks Oracle,” Batman interrupted, gunning the engine and racing off toward GothCorp HQ.

Both “Batman” and Bruce Wayne had experience dealing with GothCorp. The so-called “People Company”, headed by CEO Ferris Boyle, was supposedly developed for aid humanity in whatever way possible, whether that be a new food supply, new medical research, a new way of living, and hell, even the potential colonization of Mars.

But behind the scenes, GothCorp was crooked to the core. They dealt in weaponry in the shadows and in back room deals. As Oracle had pointed out, they were most notable for their cryogenic technological developments, especially weaponry. They’d branched out a lot since then, and not just with their ‘helping humanity’ scheme. It was curious though, since GothCorp had been relatively quiet and well-behaved the last few years. So why the sudden shadowy deals? Batman intended to find out why.

When he arrived at the scene, GCPD, the Fire Department, and Medical respondents were already there. None of them could get inside the building as of yet, but that wasn’t going to stop Batman. He spotted Gordon at the edge of the scene, near a dark alleyway, as if waiting for someone. So Batman approached him from the shadows.

“What do we know?” he asked. Gordon didn’t so much as flinch, flicking his cigarette down to the ground and crushing it under his shoe.

“Nothing yet. We haven’t been able to get inside. We have to wait for the Fire Marshal to give the green light. But that’s not going to stop you, is it?” he asked. There was a pause, then Gordon followed up with “all we know so far, is that we received reports of at least half a dozen explosions rocking the building. No suspects, no motive, nothing.”

“I’ll let you know what I find,” Batman replied. Gordon just gave a nod. He turned and sure enough, Batman was gone.

* * *

 

 “Oracle--” Batman began, having snuck into the building.

“Already on it. Hacking the security feeds now,” she answered. Batman carefully made his way through the building which was in rough shape. Chunks of stone littered the floor, and jagged pieces of metal stuck out where the explosions had gone off. Small fires still burned here or there, and Batman passed the occasional corpse of any poor, unlucky fool who had been unable to escape. Alarms blared around him, which he ignored as he proceeded through the building.

He knelt before a corpse and examined it.

“Bullet wounds. This man was an employee.”

“Bullet wounds? Then this wasn’t just some random attack. This was a hit,” Oracle replied. Batman pulled a pair of tweezers from his utility belt and managed to dig out a bullet. He scanned it with the wrist-mounted computer in his gauntlet and sent it to Oracle.

“Oracle, examine the bullet scan I sent you and let me know what you find.”

“On it.”

Batman continued through the building with caution. It didn’t seem like there was anyone else here, but then something caught his eye. Eyes narrowing Batman approached a device that looked like--”

“A bomb. Looks like a dud. Military Grade,” Batman said from a simple visual inspection.

“A bomb? And Military Grade? This was definitely a hit,” Oracle replied. “I’ve got something on your bullet. It’s also military grade. I’m not liking where this is going.”

“This wasn’t just some Corporate hit job. This attack was carried out by trained professionals. Mercenaries. Highly skilled mercenaries,” Batman put in.

“That’s where all the evidence is pointing. I have some security footage here. Uploading it to you now.”

Batman pulled up a holorgraphic screen from his gauntlet and watched the footage. He skipped through several pieces of footage until he found a few that brought on suspicion. The new CEO was meeting with some rather shady looking characters, and then in another scene, Red Hood and Arsenal were discovered. That was when everything went to hell. The man the CEO was meeting with pulled out a gun and executed him. From there, the feeds went dark. All of them, save for one.

“They made a mistake,” Batman muttered.

“Yeah, I’m watching the same clip now.”

The clip in question showed men and women in combat gear entering the building. Batman zoomed in on someone in the distance and watched him set a bomb. He could hear gun fire and screams, but then came another gunshot, and the feed went dark.

“This is really troubling. I’ve never seen mercenaries like that before. Their armor doesn’t match any known mercenary group,” Oracle called.

“It’s definitely concerning, yes. My first guess would’ve been the League of Assassins, but the evidence here doesn’t point to them.”

“We’ll need to talk to Jason and Roy then. They were here before the bombs went off. They might know something.”

“Yes. But what’s more troubling is--”

“How did they get into Gotham completely undetected?”

“Exactly.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce sat at his computer for a couple of hours, going over the evidence he and Oracle gathered together, but so far, turning up no leads. It was frustrating, because it almost seemed as if this mercenary group didn’t even exist. Bruce even ran the symbol on the patch, and that turned up absolutely nothing. Not in mythology, politics, religion, nothing.

Slipping back out of the building undetected, Batman made his way back to the cave to start going over the evidence. He remotely sent the evidence he’d collected on the murder cases from the Batcomputer, to Jim Gordon; this new case took precedent.

However, they didn’t have much to go on so far. He had Oracle looking at the evidence while he made the trip back to the Batcave. All they had was some video footage of some shady meeting, some unknown mercenaries, and evidence of military grade weaponry. Oracle was right about one thing though; Jason and Roy were their most important leads right now. They were there before the bombs went off. They fought these mercenaries. If anyone had any leads on them at all, it’d be those two.

The problem was, they were in pretty rough condition. He hadn’t seen Jason in such rough shape since--

“Master Bruce,” came Alfred’s voice over the comm link, breaking off his train of thought.

“What is it, Alfred?” he asked.

“Master Bruce, I thought you’d like to know that Master Jason is awake. He’s awake and alert. No signs of brain damage. But he did ask about Master Roy,” Alfred said.

“And how is Roy?”

“He’s…not as well. Are you returning to the cave?”

“Yes. I’m on my way, Alfred.”

Bruce arrived back at the batcave within ten minutes and removed his cowl. The cave was empty, meaning that everyone had gone up into the manor. Bruce headed for the Batcomputer first and opened a channel to Oracle and set up a program to begin running the evidence and the footage he’d collected. It was only once that was done that he made his way upstairs, changing back into civilian attired first.

The man made his way first to Jason’s room. There, he found Alfred dressing Jason’s wounds and Dick sitting at his bed side talking to him.

“Jason,” Bruce said in a low tone, slowly making his way over.

“Hey dad,” Jason muttered. Dick snorted with barely contained laughter, and even Bruce was a little taken aback by the use of the term.

“Did you just call him dad?” Dick asked. Jason glared at him and huffed in annoyance.

“It’s the pain killers. It’s making me feel unusually nice. Can’t you people just enjoy it while it lasts?” Jason replied a little grumpily. Alfred chuckled in amusement and finished wrapping a wound on Jason’s arm.

“I for one, Master Jason, enjoy it. I do wish you were like this more often, however.”

“What can I say, Alf? I’m an ass by nature. Pardon my French.”

“Just this once, and only because you’re higher than a kite, Master Jason,” Alfred replied, retreating from the room. Bruce chuckled a bit at the scene that had played out before him, then made his way over to Jason’s bed side.

“Dick, go check on Roy for me, would you?” Jason asked, glancing over at him. Dick gave a curt nod and made his way out of the room as well. Bruce watched Dick go, then sat down where Dick had sat. A silence brewed between Bruce and Jason for what felt like eternity. Then, finally, Bruce broke the silence.

“Jason…I need to know what happened.”

“Straight to business then, eh? It’s cool, I’m fine. At least I didn’t _die_  this time.”

" _Jason_.” Bruce said evenly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jason snorted in amusement and waved his hand dismissively.

“Calm your cowl. Just gimme a sec. These pain meds have my head swimming in a fog,” Jason replied. He was silent for several long moments. He took a deep breath and reached for the memories.

“Roy and I were investigating GothCorp….”

* * *

 

“Are you sure we should be wasting our time investigating GothCorp? I mean, they haven’t done anything. In years,” Roy replied, pulling on his Arsenal gear. Jason pulled on his jacket and finished lining it with gear, then grabbed his helmet and tucked it under his arm.

“It’s GothCorp, Roy. If they’re making shady, backroom deals, then they’re up to no good. Trust me,” Jason replied. Roy gave a shrug of his shoulders and pressed his domino onto his face.

“If you say so. Ready when you are, Jaybird,” Roy answered, strapping his napalm gun to his side.

“Right, let’s go,” Jason replied, making his way out of the bunker. He and Roy took their motorcycles to the Financial District, making sure to keep them well hidden. From there, they infiltrated the building using weak points and blind spots in security and carefully made their way to the CEO’s office. They managed to break in while he was away, and, with Roy standing guard, Jason bugged the place; they needed recordings of this scum bag if they wanted to bag him. From there, it turned into a stakeout. The two of them left the building to avoid detection and camped out nearby.

A few hours passed with a whole lot of nothing, until finally, the mission truly began. They could hear the CEO, Bradly James, talking with someone else.

_[“The information is going to cost you extra. The Broker had to spend additional resources to infiltrate LexCorp while maintaining the cover of his current operatives.”]_

“This is soundin’ shadier and shadier,” Arsenal muttered to Red Hood. Hood didn’t say a word, but instead, kept listening.

_[“Fine, I’ll have the money wired to the agreed account. Did you take care of those four “activists” in the Bowery? They’ve been raising a stink about--”_

_“They’re dealt with. In a few days, the GCPD will arrest one of our fall guys for their murders.”]_

“Well, I think that’s all we need to know,” Arsenal said, grabbing his bow. He turned to Hood and flashed a grin. “Shall we?” Hood got to his feet and shut off the device, then pocketed it and grabbed a grappling hook.

“Let’s nail a scum bag,” Hood replied, firing his line toward the building. The two vigilantes crashed through the window and Bradley and his ‘guest’ jumped in surprise.

“You’ve been compromised!” the mystery man snapped angrily. Bradely’s eyes widened in fear and he raised his hands defensively.

“N-no!” he shouted, but the stranger executed him in cold blood.

“Woah, what the fuck?” Arsenal blurted out, taken aback. The man turned to them and frowned, then pressed a button on the front of his jacket. Hood and Arsenal moved to apprehend him, but then explosions started wracking the building. In the confusion, the man slipped past the two of them. All hell broke lose moments later as gunfire started ringing out…

* * *

 

“We’ve never encountered anything like them. Highly trained mercenaries, equipped with top-of-the-line Military Grade gear. I mean, sure, we’ve seen mooks like that before,” Jason went on, turning toward Bruce “but these guys had the training to go with the gear. We’re talking League of Assassins level talent. Roy and I tried to help, tried to take them down, but between the explosions, and the mooks themselves, we were caught completely off guard. We took some bad hits and had to get out of there.” He didn’t mention that he was more worried for Roy than himself. Roy had taken a helluva beating. If they’d been prepared for these guys, they probably could’ve taken them. But nothing could’ve prepared them for that.

Bruce’s frowned deepened as he listened to Jason’s explanation.

“I…god I fucked up. I know you trained me to prepare for anything, but--”

“Jason…” Bruce interrupted, patting the man’s shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re alive.” Jason chuckled a bit, then gestured toward his jacket across the room.

“Some of the intel we managed to gather is on a flash drive in my jacket pocket,” Jason explained. Bruce made his way over to the jacket and fished through the pocket for the flash drive. And something else. “Also ripped that patch off of one of the merc’s gear. Not sure what it means.”

Bruce frowned as he looked at the symbol on the patch; it had an open hand with an eye in the palm.

“Hmmm. Thank you Jason. You rest now,” Bruce said evenly, leaving Jason to his thoughts.

Jason, however, wasn’t content to just lay around and ‘heal’. He’d pretty much made a career out of not doing what he was told. With some effort and a grunt of pain, Jason pulled himself out of bed, hand clutching at his side, bandages wrapped all around his mid section. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on, then padded out of the room and down the hall to where Roy was.

“Roy okay?” Jason asked as he pushed the door open. His heart caught in his throat for a second. Dick was sitting beside him and Leslie was tending to his wounds, but Roy looked like hell. He lay there, still unconscious, looking pale and almost drained of life. His wounds were a bit more serious, but he didn’t think Roy had been that bad off. “Is he okay?” Jason repeated more firmly, limping over toward him. Dick got up and stopped Jason, wrapping an arm around his waist. Jason grunted, wrapping his own arm around Dick’s shoulders as the man helped him over toward Roy.

“He’s stable. We won’t know anything else until he wakes up, but he is in no immediate danger,” Leslie reassured him. Jason frowned but nodded nonetheless, sitting in the chair beside his bed. He stared at Roy’s face, eyes raking over his body, pausing at each of the wounds that he could see. He reached out and grabbed Roy’s hand, holding it in his.

“Fuck…how did this go so wrong?” Jason muttered to himself. Dick hesitated for a moment, then patted Jason’s shoulder gently.

“It’s not your fault, Jaybird. Roy’s tough, he’ll pull through. You’ll see,” Dick replied. Jason glanced up at the man and sure enough, he was wearing one of those dumb smiles. Truth was, he always felt a bit reassured when Dick smiled. The guy just had a natural ability to make people feel better, or at least less shitty, with just a word and a smile.

There was a silence in the room, with Jason watching over Roy, holding his hand and sending silent prayers to whoever was listening, and Dick watching over the both of them.

“So…” Dick began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Jason flinched a bit at the sudden break in the silence, canting his head upward slightly in Dick’s direction. “You and Roy, huh?” Jason slowly turned his head toward Dick to see that bastard wearing a rather smug smile. Jason frowned at him and Dick raised his hands defensively. “I don’t mean anything by it. Just asking!”

“Yeah. Me and Roy. Go figure,” Jason replied as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Was it that obvious?” he asked. Dick shrugged.

“Just a hunch. You guys seemed really good together. It only makes sense that you’d end up as…well…more than friends, y’know?”

Jason snorted in response and turned his attention back to Roy.

“Yeah. Roy saved my life. In more ways than just one. I was going down a dark path..well…dark _er_ , then I saved this moron and then _he_  ends up saving _my_  ass. Go fuckin’ figure,” Jason replied, earning a chuckle of amusement from Dick. “We were just friends, and then after a while…it just….kind of _happened_ , y’know?” Jason looked up at Dick again, and this time he was wearing a genuine smile. He patted Jason’s shoulder soothingly, and Jason sighed deeply.

“Why am I even telling you this shit? God, this touchy-feel shit is so unlike me.”

“Maybe because you’re high as a kite right now?” Dick teased. Jason pulled a face and shrugged his shoulders.

“Could be, Dickie-bird. Could be. I feel pretty up there right now. Good.”

“Well, I’m happy for you. Both of you. You guys have been through some heavy shit. You deserve a little happiness.”

“Thanks Goldie.”

“Bite me.”

“That’s my line.”

* * *

 

Bruce sat at his computer for a couple of hours, going over the evidence he and Oracle gathered together, but so far, turning up no leads. It was frustrating, because it almost seemed as if this mercenary group didn’t even exist. Bruce even ran the symbol on the patch, and that turned up absolutely nothing. Not in mythology, politics, religion, nothing. The only thing that came close, was the ‘Eye of Horus’ and “The All Seeing Eye”.

“Bruce, I’ve got something on the local news feeds I think you should see. Bringing it up now,” came Oracle’s voice. A news report popped up on the Batcomputer moments later.

_[“...authorities have made several arrests in the bombing of GothCorp Headquarters. Evidence suggests that Serial Arsonist Garfield Lynns, a.k.a “Firefly”, as well as several of his associates, have been arrested in connection with the bombing.”_

_As the anchorwoman spoke, the footage showed Garfield Lynns being arrested and escorted out in handcuffs._

_“I didn’t do it! I’m innocent! Innocent god dammit!”]_

“He didn’t do it,” Bruce said after it ended.

“I know. But whoever is _really_ behind it, has done a hell of a job framing him. All of the evidence is engineered specifically to make him look guilty.”

Bruce frowned deeply and stared down at the patch he took from Jason’s jacket. With no solid evidence pointing in any meaningful direction, all they had to go on was this symbol.

“I think I know someone who can help.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. It was supposed to have been up on the 14th, but shit happened. xD 
> 
> If you're wondering, The Question is based primarily off of JLU's version, with a dash of Pre-New52.

Batman snuck into the warehouse apartment belonging to one Victor Sage, a.k.a The Question. He was fortunate enough that The Question happened to be in Gotham tonight.

The Question was well known as a paranoid Conspiracy Theorist, and was often joked that he was the only one who was more paranoid than even Batman. But despite his…eccentricities, he was also a brilliant detective, tactician, and computer hacker, with genius level intellect, and training in Dragon Style Kung Fu. To many, he just seemed like a crazy Conspiracy Theorist, but he could be dangerous if he wanted to be.

“Batman. To what do I owe this visit?” Question asked without turning from his computer. Batman’s eyes narrowed and looked around the apartment; it was mostly well organized, only slightly messy. He noted the cork board on the wall, with lines connecting from different pictures, news paper articles, and more. There were also various symbols on the board, from the All Seeing Eye, to the seal of the Knights Templar.

Batman turned his attention back to The Question, who was still engrossed in whatever he was doing at his computer.

“I need your help,” Batman said evenly. The Question paused and with it, the sound of clacking keys. There was a moment of silence before the clicking continued again, followed by the sound of a printer working. The Question wordlessly got to his feet and grabbed the paper out of the printer and stuck it to his cork board, then finally turned to face Batman, donning a mask that lent the appearance of a blank face.

“Batman needs my help? The World’s Greatest Detective? That strikes me as…odd,” he replied. Batman’s eyes narrowed a bit as he pulled the patch out of his utility belt.

“Red Hood managed to rip this symbol off of a mercenary’s armor in GothCorp headquarters over in the Financial District. Have you seen it before?” The Question took the patch and examined it silently for a few moments. He then turned to his cork board and examined it, holding the patch up to it, until he found a similar symbol.

“Yes, I’ve encountered this symbol before,” he began, pinning the patch to the cork board beside the symbol. He turned to Batman and went on “it’s the symbol belonging to a covert operation that very few are privy to the existence of. I’ve spent a few years trying to crack this particular case. Nobody knows who leads this organization, save that he and his…employees…call him “The Broker”.”

“The Broker? And what is it he deals in?” Batman asked. The Question turned from the board again and back to Batman.

“Information. It is my belief that The Broker is in possession of the world’s largest information network. He deals in information, possessing more secrets than you can possibly imagine. He pulls the strings of the entire world from the safety of the shadows,” The Question went on. He turned back to the cork board and started pointing at symbols as he spoke.

“I believe it began with the Illuminati or the Knights Templar,” The Question began, moving from one symbol to the next. “Whoever founded this shadowy organization has spent centuries moving pawns into positions of power to collect the world’s secrets, buying, selling, and trading information on a global scale.”

Batman listened remaining silent as the Question explained what he “knew” about “the Broker”. He was not in the least surprised to hear any of this; he knew what he was in for when he came to see The Question.

“Many of the history’s most major events were orchestrated by this organization. As were the many deaths of those who attempted to expose them. Or rather, those who worked for them.” He pointed to a picture of John F. Kennedy.

“The Kennedy Assassination,” then Abraham Lincoln “The assassination of Abraham Lincoln,” the next, Andrew Garfield “the attempted assassination of Andrew Garfield,” and then lastly, he pointed to a picture of a Hitler “and the rise, and fall, of Adolf Hitler.”

“This all sounds--”

“Crazy? Yes, so I’ve been told,” The Question interrupted, turning his attention back to the cork board. “And yet here you are, with this symbol. Proof of the conspiracy.”

“Or just proof of a crime,” Batman interjected.

“I may be able to help you, Batman. But I request you keep me in the loop. This is a case I have been working for many years. You came to me, which means you must need my help. And I am willing to help, provided you keep me informed.”

Batman was silent for a time, glancing over at the cork board and the patch he’d taken from Jason’s jacket. All things considered, it might not be a bad idea to keep The Question in the loop. This was more his area of expertise. After all, sometimes, Conspiracy Theories proved to be true…

* * *

 

Batman arrived back at the batcave to find Tim and Damian sparring; Tim with his Bo staff and Damian with his sword, both in full costume. Dick was watching from the sidelines and making sure they didn’t try to kill each other. In all fairness, Damian wasn’t killing any more and was now tolerating Tim. And Tim wasn’t actively antagonizing him (most of the time) anymore. Any taunts, threats, or jokes they threw at each other, were simply to throw the other off their game. Well…maybe. It was hard to tell, sometimes.

The two of them ended their sparring session when Bruce strode into the cave, pulling off his cowl.

“Damian, what’re you--”

“Timothy explained the situation to me, father. So I returned to help,” Damian interrupted. Tim gave a shrug of his shoulders.

“I figured we could use a little bit of extra help. I mean, these guys took down Jason and Roy, and they’re top tier fighters,” Tim pointed out. Bruce was silent for a time, but regarded Damian with a nod of his head. He moved toward the Batcomputer to link up with Oracle to find out what they knew so far.

“Where did you go?” Dick asked curiously, approaching from behind. He wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulders and patted Damian’s back, steering the both of them toward Bruce.

“I went to see The Question.”

“That quack? He’s a conspiracy theorist and a nut case!” Tim replied incredulously.

“I’m aware. However, a Conspiracy Theorist may very well be who we need. Whoever we’re up against, they’re meticulous and precise. The only reason we know they exist is because they made a mistake,” Bruce replied, turning in his seat to look at his sons. “The Question is eccentric, granted, but what we’re up against is in his field of expertise.” He turned back to the corner and together, he and Oracle went over their findings; it was very little.

“None of the scans we’ve collected have turned up anything. This ammunition, these bombs, they’re untraceable. Whoever manufactures them doesn’t want anyone to know they exist. Or it’s possible that this “Broker” has his own personal manufacturer. It’s hard to tell. What we have amounts to pretty much nothing.”

“Wow. That’s…impressive,” Dick said, wide-eyed at Barbara’s report. Damian frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, and Tim started pacing, wracking his brain for some answers.

“So all we have to go on is that patch, and Question’s Conspiracy Theory,” Bruce replied. He steepled his fingers and turned in his chair. “How are Jason and Roy doing?” he asked.

“Roy woke up a little bit ago. While you were out. Jason’s with him. They’re doing well. No signs of concussion or lasting damage,” Leslie called, making her way down the stairs and into the cave.

“Their pride is a little bit wounded, but otherwise, they will make a full recovery.” Bruce got from his seat and gave a bow of his head, shaking her hand.

“Thank you, doctor.” Leslie pulled Bruce aside, out of earshot, and Bruce shot his boys ‘the look’ as an added precaution against eavesdropping.

“But I’m still concerned about Jason’s mental state. You’re still letting him patrol, after--”

“He’s a grown man, capable of making his own decisions, Leslie,” Bruce interrupted. He sighed a bit, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Besides, I get the sense that my ordering him to stop would only exacerbate matters. Jason’s always been a bit…”

“Rebellious?” Leslie asked, arching an eyebrow. Bruce gave an amused snort, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Very well. I’ve never known you to put faith in people who are undeserving, but I don’t exactly trust your judgement,” Leslie said evenly. “After all, you run around in a bat suit, beating up criminals.”

“Is that humor, doctor?” Bruce asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes it is. You should give it a try sometime. It can be quite liberating. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to my clinic on the East Side,” Leslie replied, making her way back up to the manor.

* * *

 

Jason hummed a little tune to himself as he worked in tandem with Alfred to cook breakfast for everyone. It was nearing morning time, and nobody had slept at all, considering he and Roy scared the shit out of everyone by showing up half dead in the cave last night.

Alfred had tried to encourage him to rest, but Jason simply couldn’t sit still for very long. It just wasn’t his thing. He needed to be doing _something_. It just so happened that Jason enjoyed cooking; he and Alfred used to spend a lot of time together in the kitchen, back during his Robin days.

“Master Jason, could you hand me the--”

“Eggs?” Jason replied without turning, grabbing the eggs off the island and handing them to Alfred as he prepared some pancakes; homemade, made from scratch, and his personal favorite; Chocolate Chip Pancakes. So they were pretty much making a little something for everyone.

“Chocolate chips, Master Jason?” Alfred asked, grabbing them out of the cabinet without looking and handing them to Jason.

“Thanks Alf,” Jason replied, taking them, again without looking. Some things never really changed.

It was only after Jason had finished cooking the pancakes that Roy practically dragged himself down the stairs. Jason glared at him as he and Alfred set the table, then stalked over to the red head and wrapped an arm around his waist to help him.

“Are you fucking stupid?”

“Language,” Alfred called.

“Sorry Alf,” Jason replied. Roy chuckled in amusement, followed by a groan of pain, clutching his side.

“Ow. It hurts to laugh,” Roy groaned. Jason snorted and helped Roy to the table.

“I’ll take that as a yes. You were pretty fucked up Roy; you should--”

“Be in bed. Yes, so should you, Master Jason,” Alfred cut in, arching an eyebrow. Jason opened his mouth to argue, but upon a look from Alfred, he shut his mouth. Roy snickered in amusement, earning an elbow (gently) in his side from Jason.

The three of them turned toward the sound of footsteps and saw Dick, Tim, and Damian all dressed in regular clothes, making their way into the kitchen.

“Mmmm, smells good Alfred,” Dick said cheerily, taking a seat beside Jason. He glanced down the table at Roy and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, Jason interrupted.

“Roy’s doing fine. He’s just being an idiot.” A snicker of amusement from Roy, as the red head wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

“Aw, how sweet of you to care, Jaybird,” he teased. Jason blushed and playfully shoved the man off him, shooting him a glare.

“Cut it out,” Jason growled in a low tone. Roy giggled a little bit and waved his hand dismissively.

“Pretty sure they already know, Jay,” he replied with a wink. Jason looked around the table to see that no one was in the least bit surprised. In fact, they went on with grabbing food and eating like nothing had happened.

“Of course they do,” Jason replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. Keeping secrets in this family was _exceedingly_  difficult. “Roy, how high are you right now?”

“Babe, my head is swimmin’ in the clouds,” Roy replied with a giggle of amusement, to which Dick snorted with barely contained laughter.

“That’s some pretty powerful stuff, Alf,” Jason remarked, arching an eyebrow. Alfred nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. It would see Master Roy has a lower tolerance for it than the rest of you.”

“We have a lead,” Bruce said evenly, prompting all of them to turn toward his direction. There was a brief silence as Bruce joined them at the table; he had a…soft spot for pancakes. It was a…weakness that only Alfred knew of. “We’ll get some rest for now--”

Dick snorted with barely contained laughter and the others seemed equally amused.

“I’m sorry, did you just use the ‘R’ word?” Dick asked, mock gasping in shock.

“Yes, Dick. Rest. And tomorrow, we leave for Metropolis.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Batman, or should I say, Bruce Wayne?” the synthesized voice said. “You walk a dangerous path. You may think the shadows are your ally, but they are not. There are things in the dark places better left hidden. I know who you are. I know where you are weak. Abandon this investigation. Go about your business. The only reason you are receiving this warning and not a sword to the throat, is because you are an important piece on the playing field. I admire your work. However, should you persist in this line of inquiry, there will be…consequences. Consider yourself warned.”

“What the hell do you mean, you’re benching us?!” Jason snapped angrily, following after Bruce as the man made his way down into the cave. The cool air blowing through the cave brushed against Jason’s bare skin, making him shiver slightly, but he ignored it; the heat of anger more than made up the difference. “Roy and I cracked this fucking thing open! You can’t fucking bench us like we’re your god damn sidekicks!” Jason snapped. Bruce made his way down the stairs and to the equipment lockers. He turned to Jason and pointed at him, giving him the batglare.

“You and Roy are still recovering! You can’t be out in the field in your shape. You’d only get in the way.”

“Fuck you. You forget who the hell you’re talking to? I pretty much made a _career_ out of ignoring your orders. And in case you forgot, I’m not one of your little wind-up soldiers you can just _order_ around,” Jason snapped back, storming back up the stairs. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Wow. That was a marvelous performance, Bruce. A+ dad material right there. ‘You’ll only get in the way’?” Dick said, arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t have time for this, Dick.”

“You know, maybe you should just try telling him you _care_  about his well-being, instead of treating him like a soldier. He _is_  your son after all. You _literally_  adopted him,” Dick replied. Bruce glanced over his shoulder at him, then made his way to the batmobile.

“Get ready, and meet me in Metropolis. We have work to do,” Bruce replied. Dick heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose; he swore that sometimes, he’d make more progress with a brick wall.

“Fine,” Dick shot back, grabbing his gear.

* * *

 

Bruce made his way through the Wayne Enterprises building located in Metropolis. It was relatively new and secretly served as a means of keeping an eye on Lex Luthor. It was an easy cover though, because business wise, it established a rivalry of sorts, what with there being a Lex Corp building in Gotham. But the real gem was located _beneath_  the building; a backup batcave, right underneath Lex Luthor’s nose.

Over the years, Bruce created several, smaller batcaves all over the globe, in case he needed to be away from Gotham for extended periods of time. Having bases every where was extremely useful. He even had a secret base on the moon; one could never be too careful, after all. Even the Justice League wasn’t privy to its existence.

He wasn’t after Lex Luthor this time though; in fact he was almost certain that Lex had _absolutely nothing_  to do with this latest…case? Conspiracy? Regardless, his focus wasn’t on Lex, and he suspected that Lex was just another in along line of unwitting pawns in this shadowy organization’s game.

Bruce pushed the door open to his office, closing it behind himself, then made his way over to the book case. He tugged on a book “The Art of War” by Tsun Zu, and the bookcase moved to reveal a hidden elevator. He stepped inside and pressed the button on the panel and waited as it took him down, deep underneath the building to a secret bunker that acted as a batcave.

He stepped out to find Dick working at the computer and coordinating with Oracle, with Tim by his side, and Damian talking with--

“Clark,” Bruce said evenly. Clark, or rather “Superman”, looked over at Bruce and flashed a smile.

“I was just telling Superman that we don’t need his help,” Damian said sourly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Damian is correct. We have this under control, Clark,” Bruce replied, making his way over tot eh equipment locker. Superman followed him over, boots tapping across the stone floor.

“You’re in Metropolis. My City. It would have been nice to know you were coming. And what you’re doing here,” Clark replied, in an oddly friendly tone. Bruce, now in full Batman gear, sans the mask, turned to Clark.

“We’re investigating something linked to an incident in Gotham--”

“Involving Lex Luthor?” Clark asked, arching an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest. Bruce pulled on his cowl and shook his head.

“No. Involving Lex Corp,” Batman replied. Clark frowned a bit and followed Batman as they made their way over to the computer.

“So it involves Lex.”

“No.”

“Then why--”

“Someone has infiltrated Luthor Corp and was aiding GothCorp in gathering intel. They were caught, and in response, they bombed GothCorp, and framed Garfield Lyns for the attack,” he interrupted, staring at the screen. Dick got up from the seat and let Batman take over.

“Clark, hey! How are you?” Dick asked cheerily, patting the man’s shoulder. He too was in full gear, sans the domino mask. So far they hadn’t found anything suspicious going on at Lex Corp.

“Dick, it’s good to see you again! How’s Bludhaven?” Clark asked with a bright smile, patting Dick’s back. Dick grinned from ear to ear and gave a shrug of his shoulders.

“Oh you know, the usual. It’s pretty much Gotham Lite over there, 24/7,” Dick replied with a chuckle of amusement. Clark laughed and gave a nod in reply.

“I see. Well if anyone can sort it out, it’s you.”

“If you’re done, we have work to do,” Batman answered with turning around. Clark and Dick shared a look, then the Kryptonian shrugged his shoulders.

“Alright, well, just give me a call if you need any help,” Clark called as he made his way out of the bunker.

“See you later, Clark!” Dick called after him with a wave. Dick turned to Bruce and leaned against the back of his chair. “You know, you could try be less of a Richard--”

“Please not with the puns,” Batman said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tim snorted with held back laughter beside him, silenced with a batglare. Dick just grinned widely and turned his attention back to the screen.

“So, do we have anything yet? I planted all of the monitoring devices while you distracted Lex with your “meeting” with him. It’s been a few hours. Surely we’ve got something by now, right?” Dick asked.

“No,” Batman replied simply.

“Still working on it. I’ve got an eye on Lex Corp in Gotham and The Question is snooping around for me, too,” Oracle answered.

“We might have some answers for you,” came Jason’s voice over the computer.

* * *

 

Red Hood and Arsenal both made their way down to Lex Corp in full gear. They were still a bit banged up and sore, but neither of them were really the “sit-around-and-do-nothing” types. Besides, Bruce told Jason ‘no’, so disobeying him was kind of a bonus.

Once they arrived in the area, they spotted The Question sneaking around the perimeter. They shared a glance before they snuck down to meet up with him.

“Red Hood, Arsenal. I was under the impression you were both resting and recovering,” The Question said in a hushed tone without looking away from the dumpster he was currently digging through.

“Yeah, well, we’re not exactly the do-nothing type,” Red Hood replied evenly. Arsenal and Red Hood shared another look.

“Why are you--”

“Digging through the trash? You’d be surprised what people throw away. There are more secrets buried in the garbage than you realize,” The Question interrupted. The duo shared another look.

“That so? Well, I figured a group like this is a little more careful than to just throw evidence away,” Hood replied. The Question stopped what he was doing and brushed himself off.

“So it would seem. Still, a good detective--”

“Keeps an open mind, yeah,” Red hood cut in, reminded of his days as Robin. He mentally reprimanded himself for doubting The Question. Granted, he still thought the guy was a little nutty, but he had a point. And he was pretty good at detective work.

“Alright. So what can we do to help?” Arsenal asked. The Question brushed his jacket off, then hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the entrance of the building.

“I’m glad you asked. How good are you at making a distraction?” The Question asked. Hood and Arsenal shared a look.

* * *

 

“We might have some answers for you,” came Jason’s voice over the computer. Batman’s eyes narrowed as Jason, in full Red Hood gear, appeared on the screen. “We bagged us a suspicious looking scum bag, and beat some answers out of him. He works for ‘The Broker’. Sound familiar?”

“Hold on--” Oracle interrupted “I think we’ve got something on one of the listening devices! Patching you in!”

“--the information on Lex Corp’s latest innovation. Orders, sir?” came a woman’s voice. A deep, synthesized voice spoke in reply to the woman.

“Good. Maintain your cover. I want full, detailed reports every twenty-four hours. Do not disappoint me, or you will be replaced. Am I understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Broker out.”

A silence filled the air as everyone, save for Batman, exchanged looks. What exactly did they just stumble onto?

“Well, it’s safe to say that there’s definitely something going on here,” Dick chimed in.

“But we need more. We need to find this woman and capture her. Interrogate her for information,” Oracle said.

“We’ve already got someone here!” Jason replied.

“But the more we have, the better!”

“We--” Jason began, but his communication was interrupted.

“Hood?” Batman asked. Suddenly, the entire computer screen started to flicker. Then, a silhouette appeared on the screen.

“Batman, or should I say, Bruce Wayne?” the synthesized voice said. “You walk a dangerous path. You may think the shadows are your ally, but they are not. There are things in the dark places better left hidden. I know who you are. I know where you are weak. Abandon this investigation. Go about your business. The only reason you are receiving this warning and not a sword to the throat, is because you are an important piece on the playing field. I admire your work. However, should you persist in this line of inquiry, there will be…consequences. Consider yourself warned.”

The silhouette disappeared and the screen went back to normal. Communications were restored as if nothing had happened.

“Bruce! What the hell is going on?!” Jason called over the comm link.

“Yeah, I got cut off too. What’s going on?” Oracle asked. Bruce pulled off his cowl and steepled his fingers, glaring at the computer screen.

“The Broker knows we’re on to him. He’s given us a warning,” Bruce replied. “Worse, he seems to know who we are.”

“What? How? And how did he hack _your_  computer?” Oracle asked in shock.

“It would seem our quarry is more dangerous than we suspected,” came The Question’s voice over the comm link.

“I don’t know,” Bruce began, setting his hands down on the console and getting to his feet. “But The Question is right; this raises the stakes substantially. We’re not dealing with your run-of-the-mill villain. Whoever they are, they may very well be on par with us.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve pissed off someone pretty powerful. I wonder how you’ll dig your way out of this one,”Deathstroke muttered as he stopped between Jason and Roy, glancing back and forth between them. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at the unconscious Jason’s head.
> 
> “Hmmm. I could save myself a lot of trouble in the future by pulling this trigger,” he murmured, kneeling down beside him and tapping the gun into the side of his head. He paused for a moment, then holstered the gun. “But a contract’s a contract, and your name wasn’t in it.” Deathstroke made for the exit of the cave and waved back to the unconscious duo. “I’ll be seein’ you real soon, I think. Later Red,” he said, exiting the cave.

"So what do we do now?” Dick asked, looking down at Bruce. Bruce kept staring at the computer in complete silence, thinking. Nobody said a word, until Oracle came back on over the link. Oracle had gone in and hacked into Luthor Corp’s security feeds to find this woman, including audio, using her mainframe at the Gotham Clocktower to run voice recognition until it matched the right woman. They were now waiting on the results. Finally, after half an hour of waiting, Oracle came back.

“I have a name. Deborah T. Timbers. 32 Main Street, Midvale, New York,” Oracle said. There was a pause, then a burst of gunfire from the comm link. Everyone turned their attention to the screen with interest.

“We…may have a problem,” came Jason’s voice, followed by another volley of gunfire. “Arsenal, on your six!”

“Thanks! Hood, they’re getting away!”

“Where’s the Question?!”

“What’s going on?” Bruce asked, slamming his hands on the console and jumping to his feet. There was a screech of tires, followed by an eerie silence that put everyone on edge. Then finally, Jason’s voice sounded over the comm link once more.

“Sorry, had to fight off some more mercenaries. Whoever that woman is in Metropolis, you might wanna book it,” Jason explained.

“What’s going on?” Bruce asked again, more firmly.

“We were interrogating that guy The Question captured inside the Lex Corp building, but we didn’t get much,” came Roy’s voice.

“Yeah, a sniper killed the guy. We tried to grab the bastard, but we were intercepted by mercenaries. This guy, whoever he is, isn’t shy about killing his own men to cover his tracks,” Jason explained. Bruce’s eyes narrowed; every time they had a lead, something went awry. This “Broker” was five steps ahead of them. The only reason they were even aware of his existence was because he made a mistake. Of course, that mistake wouldn’t have happened had Roy and Jason not stumbled onto one of their little plots. Whoever was pulling the strings, they were careful, cautious, meticulous, and extremely paranoid.

“Nightwing--” Bruce began, but Dick had already put on his domino mask and was heading toward the vehicles with Tim behind him.

“Already on it. We’ll find this woman and bring her in for questioning!” Dick called back, hopping on a motorcycle with Tim behind him. They peeled out of the cave, leaving just Damian and Bruce.

“Where’s The Question?” Bruce asked.

“I don’t know. The guy took off as soon as the shooting started,” Jason replied. Bruce’s eyes narrowed again. It wasn’t like The Question to run, especially not when the people he was investigating were trying to kill him; that meant they were scared and that only made him more determined.

“We’ll have to trust him. He must be on to something. The Question wouldn’t just run,” Bruce replied.

“If you say so,” Roy answered.

“We’ll head back to the manor for now. Without that guy, we don’t have any leads to follow. We’re back at square one,” Jason added in. “Alfred’s probably pissed though,” Jason muttered. Bruce couldn’t help but to smile a little as the comm link was cut. He turned to Damian and gestured for the boy to follow him.

“What are you thinking, father?” Damian asked. Bruce pulled on his cowl and with it, donning the Batman. He made his way for the Batmobile and flashed a smirk.

“I think we’re going to kick the hornet’s nest,” he replied.

* * *

 

Jason was sitting at the Batcomputer going back over all the evidence, or what little they had, to see if they missed something. Anything would do at this point. Their only lead up to now was the guy who was just sniped by his own boss, so without him, they were back to square one. It drove him mad to think there was anyone out there (aside from that bitch, Amanda Waller) that was __this good__.

“Maybe you should take a break?” Roy asked from the other side of the cave. He was currently at a work bench playing with some new tech. With the amount of equipment, parts, and tech in the cave, Roy was like a kid in a cake factory. “You’ve been at it for a few hours,” Roy replied. Jason snorted, but did get up from the computer.

“So have you, Harper,” Jason replied, sauntering over toward the man. Roy gave a laugh and glanced at Jason over his shoulder before turning back to what he was working on.

“Difference is, I’m doing something fun! I don’t need a break; I could do this all day!” Roy replied, flashing a cheeky grin. Jason stopped behind Roy and glanced over his shoulder as the man went back to work.

“What’re you building this time?” Jason asked arching an eyebrow. Roy turned to him and flashed a grin, hoisting the new gun up proudly.

“Remember that time you were knocked out a window, and I saved you with a grappling arrow? And you bitched about it--”

“Yes, I remember,” Jason interrupted, rolling his eyes. Roy snicked and continued.

“Well, I made a mental note to invent an anti-gravity arrow. Well, this ain’t an arrow--”

“Your grasp of the obvious is amazing.”

“But it’s the same idea! Anti-Gravity gun! Check it out!” Roy said cheerily, aiming the gun at a spare tire on the opposite side of the cave. A dark purple blast fire from the gun and struck the tire; it began to float up off the ground. Jason arched an eyebrow.

“Impressive. Can you reverse it?” Jason asked. Roy grinned widely and opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, frowning. Jason snorted with held back laughter. “You built an anti-gravity gun without an option to reverse the effects? Wow, Roy, brilliant idea,” Jason teased with a laugh. Roy blushed a little and snorted. He set the gun back down and got back to work.

“Hey, it still works, doesn’t it!” Roy replied. Jason glanced over at the tire and watched it hit the roof of the cave, then turned back to Roy.

“Well, credit where credit it due,” Jason answered with a shrug of his shoulders. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of Roy’s jaw. “You are pretty handy with tech, babe,” Jason replied.

“Did you just call me ‘babe’?” Roy asked with a snicker of amusement. Jason blushed and groaned a little at the realization, scrubbing his face with his hands.

“Jesus H Christ, I did. I’ve been spending too much time around you lately,” he replied. Roy laughed and got to his feet, turning to Jason and wrapping an arm around his waist and tugging him close.

“You love me anyway,” Roy replied, stealing a kiss. Jason smiled into the kiss and playfully punched Roy in the side.

“Pfft, that’s your only saving grace, Harper.”

“Ahem.”

Jason and Roy jumped apart, the two of them blushing crimson as Alfred made his way over toward the two of them.

“I have brought lunch. I figured you could use a bite to eat, considering the danger you two injured idiots threw yourselves into,” Alfred said evenly, setting a tray with sandwiches and tea down on the table. Jason gave a chuckled of amusement and rubbed the back of his neck.

“What can I say Alfred? I like danger,” Jason replied.

“Yeah, that’s why he’s dating me,” Roy joked, winking at the man as he grabbed up a sandwich. Jason snorted and grabbed one himself.

“No shit. You just like having a willing guinea pig,” Jason replied. Alfred smiled a bit. He opened his mouth to speak when a loud explosion rocked the cave.

“What the hell was that?!” Jason shouted, grabbing up his gear. Roy quickly followed suit and Alfred retreated from the cave. Jason and Roy made for the source of the explosion, toward a sealed entrance that let out of the cave and through a waterfall. Suddenly, mercenaries like the ones that attacked them at GothCorp, started pouring into the cave.

“Shit, it’s them again! How the hell’d they find this place?!” Roy shouted as he began raining arrows down on the mercenaries.

“I don’t know!” Jason shouted back, firing his guns in a shower of electric taser bullets.

“You’re trespassing, but much unlike this cave’s master, I do not take prisoners,” came Alfred’s voice behind them. Jason and Roy turned as Alfred shotgun blasted a mercenary, blowing a hole in his armor and killing him instantly. There was no time for smart remarks and quick quips, as the cave was soon flooded with mercenaries. Jason, Roy, and Alfred took cover, holding them off and keeping them at the mouth of the cave.

“Fuck, there’s too many!” Jason shouted.

“And they’re too well equipped!” Roy called back, take a moment to fire a foam arrow, trapping three against the wall.

“I know I promised Bruce I wouldn’t kill, but--”

“There’s no need, Master Jason! Cover me!” Alfred called, making his way toward the Batcomputer. Jason glanced over his shoulder as the old man made his way toward the computer and dug through his utility belt. He threw several mini-flash grenades at the mercenaries. That seemed to blind them temporarily, long enough for he and Roy to get a few shots off and disable a few more mercenaries.

One of the mercenaries pulled out a grenade launcher, and fired it at their direction.

“Grenade incoming!” Jason called.

“I got it!” Roy replied, firing an arrow at it and exploding it in midair.

“Whatever you’re doing Alfred, do it--” Jason began, but was interrupted by a crashing sound beside him. He turned to see a giant robot making its way toward the mercenaries.

“One of Batman’s latest creations!” Alfred called. The robot, designed after Batman, stomped toward the mercenaries who gave startled cries as it swung its fists at them, taking out three and for at a time as their ammunition did little to nothing to stop it.

“Wow, I need to get me one of those!” Roy called out with a childish grin. But just when the tied seemed to turn, all hell broke loose once more. A grenade landed beside Bat-Bot and exploded with electricity, frying its systems, which quickly followed by a smoke bomb.

“Shit! Get out before--”

“Game’s over, kiddies. You’ve been flanked,” came Deathstroke’s voice behind them, forcing them to turn around. Deathstroke tossed a grenade between the three of them.

“Get out of the--” Roy shouted, but it exploded and lightning arced between them, the three of them collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

“Well, what do you know? Those prototype Arc Grenades are pretty useful after all,” one of the Deathstroke said smoothly, making his way out of the smoke. He stood above Jason, Roy, and Alfred, then gestured toward Alfred.

“Take the old man. Leave the rest. I’ll make sure to leave the Broker’s message with Batman,” Deathstroke said evenly, making his way toward the computer. He glanced over his shoulder as the mercenaries grabbed and restrained Alfred, carrying him out of the cave.

Deathstroke turned his attention to the computer and began uploading the Broker’s message, as well as erasing all of the evidence they’d collected up to this point.

“You’ve pissed off someone pretty powerful. I wonder how you’ll dig your way out of this one,”Deathstroke muttered as he stopped between Jason and Roy, glancing back and forth between them. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at the unconscious Jason’s head.

“Hmmm. I could save myself a lot of trouble in the future by pulling this trigger,” he murmured, kneeling down beside him and tapping the gun into the side of his head. He paused for a moment, then holstered the gun. “But a contract’s a contract, and your name wasn’t in it.”

Deathstroke made for the exit of the cave and waved back to the unconscious duo.

“I’ll be seein’ you real soon, I think. Later Red,” he said, exiting the cave.


	6. Chapter 6

The dim light from the Batcomputer’s screen flickered in the darkness as a window popped up; it was Oracle connecting with the cave’s network.

“Hood, Arsenal, I--” she began. She paused when she didn't immediately see anything, but then she began to notice damage to the cave, the bullet holes and scorch marks on various places in the cave. “Hood, Arsenal! Come in! What’s going on?!” Barbara asked. She couldn’t see anyone, couldn’t hear anyone, and coupled with the damage she saw in the cave, that wasn’t good.

Oracle’s fingers danced across the keyboard as she hacked into the Batcave’s security system. Shockingly, it didn’t take much; someone had accessed and shut down the majority of the cave’s security systems. Now was the time to be worried. She opened a channel to Batman and Robin.

“Batman, we’ve got a serious problem! Someone’s breached the cave!”

* * *

 

“I don’t care what it takes, you get it done! This is what you were paid for! Either you produce some results, or there _will_  be consequences!” Lex shouted into his phone before turning it off. He growled to himself and stared out the window of his office, down into the city below as the sun began to set on the horizon.

“Batman,” he spat out, slowly turning around to find Batman and Robin standing behind him in the middle of his office. He flashed a smirk and folded his arms behind his back, padding over to his desk, remaining cool, calm, and collected. He knew the Batman after many run-ins with him and so if Batman were here to fight, they’d already be fighting. “So what do I owe this... _visit_?” he asked, sitting in his chair

“I’ve come to warn you, Lex,” Batman began, taking a step forward, cape still wrapped around him. Damian gave a ‘tt’, and followed Batman’s lead with his arms crossed, shooting the man a glare.

“Warn me? Is this for what you _think_  I _may do_  in the future, or--”

“Your life could be in danger,” Batman cut in, eyes narrowing. It wasn’t entirely true; he didn’t know the Broker’s motivations but the fact that Luthor was still alive, led him to believe that he was an ‘important piece on the board’. Lex frowned and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Is that so? Well that’s hardly news; my life is in danger all the time. I have a laundry list of enemies who’d love to see me dead. Who is it this time?” Lex asked nonchalantly, waving his hand dismissively.

“I have reason to believe that there are spies within Lex Corp, working for a man gathering intel on your company and all of its assets and innovations,” Batman replied. He took a few more steps forward and placed his hands on the desk, leaning toward Lex over it. “The same people who were responsible for the bombing of GothCorp over in Gotham.”

“Impossible. Every person who works in this building is vetted. You’re talking to me, after all; nobody in this building--”

“The people who attacked GothCorp were vetted too,” Batman interrupted. Lex seemed mildly perturbed by that news.

“So then…you’re implying that someone has placed operatives with fake identities, fake lives, in my company?”

“Correct.”

“And you’re warning me, why? I thought you hated me? I am, as the tabloids say, a supervillain, after all,” Lex answered, flashing a smug smirk. Batman’s eyes narrowed, shooting a scathing glare in Lex’s direction.

“You’re a slug, Luthor. A slug that hides behind his fortune and his intellect in order to avoid the consequences of his actions. I don’t care about you. Don’t mistake this warning as some kind of concern for _your_  well being. It’s concern for the innocent people who work for you,” Batman spat. Lex’s smirk faded as he stared down Batman. He closed his eyes for a moment and gave a derisive snort, rising from his chair. He made his way over to the window and looked down over the city below with his hands folded behind his back.

“Touching. Very touching. I appreciate the warning, but your intervention will not be necessary. Consider the matter--” he began, turning to find Batman and Robin gone. His eyes narrowed as he finished “--handled.”

“So, you think setting Lex loose on his own employees will flush out the Broker’s operatives?” Robin asked and he jumped into the batmobile beside Batman. Batman gunned the engine and took off.

“Yes. It will also force the Broker to respond appropriately. He will have to withdraw his agents and place news ones, and in the interim, there is room for him to make mistakes. Room for us to move on his agents. On him.”

“Batman, we’ve got a problem! You need to get back to the cave, ASAP! Someone’s hacked into the cave’s security and there’s visible damage throughout the cave! I can’t get a hold of anyone!” Oracle called over the comm link.

“We’re on our way,” Batman replied evenly, gunning the engine and making his way back to his Metropolis cave.

“We’ve got another problem,” came Nightwing’s voice over the comm link next.

“What is it?” Batman asked.

“That woman, Deborah T. Timbers? She’s dead,” Red Robin called. Batman;s eyes narrowed as he gripped the wheel harder.

“Meet us back at the cave.”

* * *

 

Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Nightwing arrived back at the cave via emergency Zeta Tube. There, they found the cave intact, but with scorch marks, bullet holes, and damage everywhere. It looked as it a war had broken out in here.

“How did they get into the cave?” Dick asked in shock, taking off his domino mask.

“That’s a good question. We’re obviously not dealing with some D-Rate criminal. Whoever they are, they’re smart, well equipped, and well informed,” Damian said sourly.

“Look! Jason and Roy!” Tim called as he pulled off his mask. He and Dick raced over to them to see if they were alright. Bruce and Damian followed. Bruce knelt down beside Jason and lifted him up a little.

“Jason. Jason wake up!” Bruce urged. Jason groaned and slowly opened his eyes before bolting up.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, pointing his guns at-- “Dick!” he called out. He glanced over at Roy to see the man getting to his feet and in a similar condition. Jason groaned again and got up with Dick’s help.

“God dammit, they got us again!” Jason scowled, slamming his fist onto the worktable beside him. Roy groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, stretching his limbs a little.

“Yeah, we weren’t exactly ready for them. But then, we never expected them to get into the cave,” Roy explained.

“I’m just glad you guys are alright. Where’s Alfred?” Dick asked curiously. Jason’s head shot up as he looked around for the old man. There, he gestured toward a few corpses across the cave.

“He came down to help us drive ‘em out. The guy’s scary when he wants to be,” Jason replied with a smirk. Bruce, Dick, Tim approached the corpses to find their armor blown open; obvious shotgun damage.

“Definitely Alfred’s shotgun,” Dick said smoothly, standing back up.

“I…I don’t remember what happened,” Jason admitted.

“I do. Well, kind of. We were shocked by some kind of electrical grenade. I think we passed out after that,” Roy answered.

“Deathstroke! He was here too, I remember that! Right before that fucker dropped that freaky electric grenade,” Jason growled. It donned on him then, what happened to Alfred. He’d been down here with them, and now, he wasn’t here at all. “They took him! They fuckin’ took Alfred!” Jason shouted angrily. Bruce was already making his way over to the computer to power the cave’s defenses back up, when a message displayed on the computer; it was that same silhouette, with that same synthesized voice.

“Batman. I warned you that there would be consequences for continuing this investigation. And so now you have been punished; your butler and long time friend, Alfred Pennyworth has been taken into our custody. He will be returned when I am certain you have abandoned this investigation of yours. If not, he will suffer a fate much worse than death; he will never see you again, nor will you see him. And you will live the rest of your life in agony, not knowing whether or not he is alive, or dead, or what sort of hells he is being put through. The choice is yours. I have all the time in the world.”

“SON OF A BITCH!” Jason roared angrily, slamming the work table and breaking it in half. “This is my damn fault! I wasn’t prepared, I let them take him! God dammit!” Jason shouted angrily, kicking a box of parts across the cave and sending the parts skittering across the floor.

“Jason, stop, that’s not helping!” Dick called. Jason spun around and shot him a glare. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it at the last moment and paced across the cave, digging his hands into his hair.

“They’re fucking dead. I’m going to kill them all,” Jason ground out.

“We’re not killing anyone,” Bruce said in a low tone, still at the computer with his fists clenched. Jason snorted derisively and spun around on the spot.

“Really?! You’re still concerned for your _god damn_  no kill rule after they _took Alfred_?! That fucking rule is the whole reason he’s gone now! If I’d’ve killed those fuckers--”

“We don’t kill, Jason! We’re better--”

“Fuck you old man, you--”

“ENOUGH!!!” Dick roared loudly, storming in between the two of them. “This isn’t fucking helping!” He turned to Jason and shot him a glare. “I know you’re pissed, Jason, because so am I!” He turned to Bruce and said “and now’s not the time to fucking argue! They took Alfred; we have to come up with a plan!” Dick heaved an exasperated sigh and paced through the cave a bit, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We all need to calm the hell down, stop arguing, and _think_ ,” Dick said softly. He kept pacing a bit, taking deep breaths every now and then. “They took Alfred, they took the heart of our family, and we’re all extremely emotional right now. You have no idea how hard it is for me to hold it together right now,” Dick went on “but we have to. If we let our emotions run wild, we’ll only walk into a trap.”

“Dick is right. I’ll see what I can dig up,” came Oracle’s voice.

“Barbara? How long have you been there?” Dick asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Long enough to know Alfred’s been kidnapped. And long enough to restore the cave’s security systems, and scan for and destroy any bugs he might have left behind.”

“Maybe I can help,” came the Question’s voice from behind them. Everyone turned to see The Question coming down the stairs from the manor. His coat was pierced with bullet holes and covered in splotches of blood. He looked pretty roughed up, but otherwise, intact and in good health. “Apologies for leaving you earlier. I went in pursuit some of the mercenaries that attacked us, and I believe it paid off.” The Question stopped a short distance away from the group and crossed his arms.

“And don’t worry, your cave will remain a secret with me. It was a curious thing that brought me here; seeing Deathstroke with a band of the same mercenaries we clashed with before, leaving Wayne manor. So I--”

“Snooped around a bit and found the secret entrance to the cave,” Tim filled in. The Question nodded.

“Indeed.”

“What was this about ‘having something’?” Bruce asked, turning to face him. The Question waved his hand through the air as he began to explain where he’d been.

“I managed to capture one of the mercenaries that attacked us. However, when I attempted to interrogate him, something electrocuted his brain. He went into a stroke and turned into a vegetable.”

“So how does that help us?” Jason growled.

“It tells us that this Broker will go to great lengths to hide his own secrets. I tracked down another mercenary, which was no easy feat. I then used a taser to incapacitate him, figuring that the shock from the taser would disable the device responsible for frying his brain in case of an interrogation attempt. I was correct.”

“So what did you find out?” Roy asked. The Question was silent for a time, glancing around the cave at each of them, including Barbara who was still on the screen, waiting to hear his answer.

“I dosed him with some truth serum and learned that The Broker has several bases of operation throughout the world, including Gotham. Especially Gotham. Gotham is a hive of scum and villainy, no offense,” he said. Jason shrugged his shoulders.

“None taken.”

“So this city’s Underworld is particularly lucrative for the Broker. This particular mercenary knew very little about the Broker or his operations, save his Gotham Operation. I believe your butler, Alfred, is being held on Arkham Island. As it turns out, The Broker, for all intents and purposes, owns Arkham Asylum. And not that it matters, but he also ‘owns’ several of Gotham’s judges, through proxies, as well.”

“So you think Alfred could be somewhere on Arkham Island?” Tim asked.

“Yes. That would be the most logical conclusion. It’s close by, a place most would not think to look, and its proximity allows the Broker’s operatives to keep a close eye on all of you,” The Question answered.

“Good. Now that we know where he is, I say we storm the island and bust some heads,” Jason growled out, punching his hand.

“Tt, don’t be stupid, Todd. We need to approach this with caution,” Damian snapped.

“Stop. Fighting,” Dick snapped at the two of them, cutting Jason off before he could retaliate.

“Damian is right. And so is Dick. We can’t let emotions cloud our judgement,” Bruce said. Everyone turned their attention onto him.

“So what should we do? If the Broker’s watching out every move, waiting for us on Arkham Island, how do we even begin to search for him?” Tim asked him. Bruce was silent for a time as he considered many different plans and ideas. He looked up at everyone and his scowl only darkened.

“I think I know someone who can help. Someone the Broker would _least_  suspect.” Batman turned and typed some commands onto the Batcomputer, and up popped an image of none other than--

“Harley Quinn.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley went back to humming a melody to herself as she skipped down the hallway and into the control room. The guard there attempted to apprehend her, but she knocked him out with an elbow to the face. She sat at the controls and started messing with the radio and the intercom.
> 
> “Attention everyone! Enjoy some jams while you go about riotin’!” Harley called over the intercom, as the song “I Want You Back” by The Jackson 5 started to play over the intercom.
> 
> Harley skipped through the halls of Arkham Asylum, singing along with the song, throwing the odd punch, or shoving the occasional inmate or staffer here or there as the riots grew increasingly violent. And loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually stuck on this one for a while, until I thought to write it from Harley's perspective. Then not only was I unblocked, it was fun as hell to write, lmao. xD It's a little anti-climactic, because I had to cut out some bits, because it was approaching 4.5k words (it's an OCD thing ^^;), but otherwise, I think it came out great! Enjoy! ^^

Harley giggled hysterically and started singing Hakuna Matata as the orderlies, in tandem with two armed guards, brought her into Arkham Asylum in a straitjackets.

“Come on, sing with me! Hakuna Matata!” She called out, much to the orderlies’ and the guards’, annoyance.

“Shut your mouth Quinn. You sound like a wounded hippo,” one of the guards snapped. Quinn made a mock shocked gasp, and turned her head toward the guard in question.

“How rude! Didn’tcha motha eva teach ya manners?! Hippos are great singers!” Harley replied, followed by a giggle. The came to an empty sell and practically threw Harley into it. She grunted as she hit the floor and quickly jumped up toward the door as they slammed it shut. She looked out of the barred window and giggled again.

“Hey! I want my phone call!” She called. “I’ve got rights! I got the right to remain silent! But then all you saps wouldn’t get ta here my angelic vocals!” she called again.

“Shut up!” one of the guards shouted back at her. Harley pouted and slumped onto the floor in the middle of her cell.

“No respect I tell ya!” Harley hummed a tune to herself while she wriggled around in her straitjacket until…”Tada!” she said in a low tone so as not to be heard, tossing the straitjacket across the cell. Harley skipped toward the window at the back of her cell and looked out, past the bars, waiting…then, as if on cue, a Batdrone, camouflaged by the night, silently made its way toward the window of her cell, carrying a weapon. It hovered by her window and cut a hole in the glass with a laser. Harley grabbed the circular piece of glass to prevent it from falling and making noise, then reached out and grabbed the gun.

“Oooh, this must be that Cold Gun that Arsenal was complainin’ about! One Mr. Freeze Cosplay, comin’ right up!” she called, firing it at the door. It shot what looked like a snowball at the door, which snap-freeze the locks. She grinned and kicked the door down, shattering the locks and sending the door crashing against the wall opposite her cell.

“Wow, this thing is fun!” Harley giggled as the Orderlies and the guards rushed into to stop her. She turned her attention to the guards and Orderlies, and in a display of acrobatics and martial prowess, she danced around them and easily took them out without firing a round from the cold gun.

“That’ll teach ya to be so rude about my singin’!” She said with a frown. A frown which quickly faded and turned into a grin as she started humming to herself. She then started snap freezing the locks on all of the cells and letting out all of the patients. This was not part of the plan, of course, but why the hell not? Harley skipped down the hallway as the Asylum staff rushed to contain the situation. She stopped in front of the Joker’s cell and looked in through the bars.

“Yoooo Hoooo! Oh Harley! Sweetie, Pumpki Pie! _Do_ be a good girl and let Mister Jay out, hmm?” came the Joker’s voice. The Joker approached the door, wearing a grin, and a straitjacket. Harley smiled brightly.

“Hmmm….okay!” she chortled, picking the lock on his door. He pushed it open, and there stood the Joker with a grin on his face.

“Ah, Harley! You--” The Joker began, interrupted when Harley head butted him in the face.

“The only reason I opened ya cell was so I could do that, ya asshole!” The Joker giggled from his place on the floor as the blood dripped from his nose.

“Oooh, little Harley’s all grown up and into her big girl pants now!” The Joker taunted, giving another hysterical giggle as he got to his feet.

“Yeah. An’ I’m done with you, ya chucklin’ sack of shit,” Harley snapped. The Joker grinned wickedly and attempted to follow Harley out, only to get the door literally slammed in his face.

“You witless little twit! I made you! Let me out, and I promise I’ll make it quick!”

“I ain’tcha toy anymore! Now do yerself a favor, an’ go bleed in a corner!” Harley called back.

“Harley! Harley! You get your ass back here and let me out now!”

Harley went back to humming a melody to herself as she skipped down the hallway and into the control room. The guard there attempted to apprehend her, but she knocked him out with an elbow to the face. She sat at the controls and started messing with the radio and the intercom.

“Attention everyone! Enjoy some jams while you go about riotin’!” Halrey called over the intercom, as the song “I Want You Back” by The Jackson 5 started to play over the intercom.

Harley skipped through the halls of Arkham Asylum, singing along with the song, throwing the odd punch, or shoving the occasional inmate or staffer here or there as the riots grew increasingly violent. And loud. She made her way into the storage area and collected her mallet and her dual snub-nosed revolvers.

From there, she popped a piece of gum into her mouth and made her way out of the storage area. On her way to an old, abandoned wing of Arkham, she crossed paths with Poison Ivy. Or rather, her vines; a set of vines stretched across the asylum and pinned some guards to the wall. Harley’s face lit up and she giggled as she skipped into the room.

“Ivy!” she chortled, skipping toward the woman. Ivy turned and smiled at the sight of Harley. “Fancy meetin’ you here!”

“Well, well, well. Harley, it’s been a while,” Ivy said with a smirk. Harley giggled and and pounced on Ivy, wrapping her arms around her and giving her a kiss.

“Yup! Doin’ a favor for Bats. Wanna help?” Harley asked. Ivy arched an eyebrow.

“A favor for Batman?”

“Mhm. We’ll get to ride in the batmobile! C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Ivy heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll do it for you. Why are you so hard to say ‘no’ to?” she asked with a chuckle of amusement.

“Because I’m me!” Harley replied with a wink. She sauntered off toward the abandoned wing of the asylum with Poison Ivy right behind her. As they made their way there, Harley explained the situation, and the deal with Batman.

* * *

 

“He can’t meet you in person, so I’m the Go-Between to deliver a message from him,” said Gordon, shifting uncomfortable in front of Harley. The two of them were meeting in Downtown Gotham. He wasn’t sure how Batman had arranged for him to meet Harley here, and after years of working with him, he learned to stop asking such questions.

“That so? And why’s that?” Harley asked, arching an eyebrow. What was more amazing was that they were meeting without violence first.

“He says there are powerful people watching his every move. You were his only option, because you’re the last person anyone would expect him to work with,” Gordon replied. Harley let out a laugh and waved her hand dismissively.

“Well, he ain’t wrong! Me, workin’ with Bats?! That’s crazy!” Harley said.

“Really?” Gordon asked. He had a device in his ear to communicate with Batman, to make a deal on his behalf. “Fine. He’s willing to make a deal with you.”

“A deal, huh? Well, he did save Ivy from that jackass, Luthor that one time. I guess I kinda owe him one! Okay, a deal then!” Harley chortled, bouncing a little on her feet. “I wanna joy ride in that Batmobile, just once!”

There was a long pause, with Gordon staring at Harley, and Harley grinning like a child.

“It’s a deal.”

“What? Really?! Awesome! Alright, whadda we waitin’ for? What’s the plan?” Gordon pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them on Harley. It was his turn to grin. “Hey, what’s the big idea?!”

“You’re going into Arkham to do some digging. Batman has agreed to help you ‘escape’, and in return, he needs you to find someone,” Gordon explained. Harley cocked her head and arched an eyebrow. Find someone?

* * *

 

“So we’re looking for Bruce Wayne’s butler?” Ivy asked in a hushed tone, arching an eyebrow as they crept through the decrepit halls of Arkham Asylum. Harley gave a shrug of her shoulders and nodded.

“Pretty much, yeah. Says these baddies kidnapped him and are holdin’ him for ransom. Bruce Wayne paid, but they haven’t given him back yet. That’s where we come in!”

“These guys must be pretty good, if they’re able to track Batman,” Ivy replied. Harley gave a shrug of her shoulders.

“Yeah, but we can take ‘em! We’re us!”

“And how do you know they’re here?”

“Well, Bats thinks they’re somewhere on Arkham Island. And there’s caves underneath the whole island! Plus this whole abandoned wing of Arkham that nobody has come to for decades! It’s a good hidin’ spot!” She turned to Ivy and flashed a grin. “Plus, It’s what I’d do!”

“Of course,” Ivy replied, flashing a smirk. The duo made their way down into the basement of the abandoned wing of Arkham which led down, deeper, through a tunnel into the cave system of the island.

“Joker used to use these tunnels to escape or hide stuff. It’s a good place to hide; easy ta get lost if ya don’t know where ya goin’.”

“And you do?” Ivy asked.

“Eh, mostly,” Harley replied with a smile, shrugging her shoulders.

“ _Harley._ ”

“Relax, Red. I got this!”

The two continued to wander through the cave system until, at last--

“Hey, I don’t remember this wall bein’ here before,” Harley said with a frown. She waltzed up to the wall and knocked on it. “Oooh, ya hear that? I think there’s somethin’ on the other side!” Harley said cheerily. She reached for her mallet and took a step back, then a step forward and swung it with all her might,. The wall shattered to reveal a small squad of mercenaries waiting on the other side.

“Well, well, well! A welcomin’ party! How sweet!” Harley chortled, stepping aside to let Poison Ivy in.

“Hmm, I’d say we’re in the right place. Now, obey me,” Ivy said, raising her arms up and spreading some pheromones. And yet, none of the men so much as flinched.

“We’re immune to your ‘charms’, Ivy. Men, open fire!” one of the soldiers called out.

“Hey Red, catch!” Harley called, tossing one of her revolvers to Ivy. Ivy caught the revolver and fired it at one of the guards while summoning the roots of the planets on the surface down to strike their attackers. As the mercenaries fired their guns, Ivy shielded Harley, briefly just because she’d launch an attack with her mallet. The two worked in tandem, covering each other as they disposed of the mercenaries one, by one.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard!” Harley declared, resting her mallet on her shoulder. Aside from a few bruises from melee combat, the two of them got out of that little scrape in one piece.

“You’re injured!” Ivy pointed out, pointing to a graze on her shoulder. Harley looked down at her shoulder where a bullet had grazed her and shrugged.

“Huh. Would ya look at that! Well, let’s get goin’! We gotta favor to finish!” Harley replied, breaking down the door with a combination of cold gun, and mallet.

“Not a lot of security.”

“Guess they didn’t think anyone would find this place. Whoopsie!” Harley replied with a laugh. They explored the small compound, taking down the few guards and mercenaries that were inside. They didn't seem as if they had been expecting anyone to get in here, because they were completely unprepared for any kind of attack. Eventually, through a combination of searching and (violent) interrogation, they found Bruce Wayne’s wayward butler; they came across the old man, tied to a chair, gagged, and injured.

“Well looky here! We found him!”

“Good. I need to get back to the surface,” Ivy said a little tiredly.

“Oh right, ya need some light! Well, no worries Red! Let’s grab ‘im and go!”

* * *

 

“Alfred! Thank god!” Bruce exclaimed as he ran up to the butler and hugged him tightly. “I thought I’d never see you again!” He turned his attention onto Batman, Poison Ivy, and Harley Quinn. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to be paid?” Bruce asked. Harley gave a shrug of her shoulders.

“Nah! It felt kinda nice doin’ somethin’ good! And besides, Batsy here now owes me a ride in that batmobile! Right Batsy?” Harley asked with a childish grin, playfully poking Batman in the side with her elbow.

“Hmm…A deal is a deal. But Ivy needs to go back to Arkham.”

“What?! You--” Ivy began, but Harley interrupted, getting between them.

“Wait just a minute! Ivy helped! You should let her go, this once!" Harley looked back and forth between a very unimpressed Batman, and a very annoyed Poison Ivy.

“How’s about anotha’ deal! You let her go, and Red and I will leave Gotham! How’s about that?”

“Harley--”

“C’mon Red! Just you ‘n’ me, out on the road, beatin’ the crap outta people what deserve it!” Everyone was silent, save for Bruce and Alfred who made their way inside the manor.

“Well…alright,” Ivy replied, stealing a kiss from Harley.

“Whooo! Ivy and Quinn! Look out world!” Harley turned to Batman and grinned.

“So, about that batmobile ride--”

“You take it to the next town over, and it’ll return to me. Understood?” Batman replied.

“Sure thing Batsy! C’mon Red, let’s go for a ride!” Harley said cheerily, jumping into the batmobile with Ivy beside her.

“I have to admit, I’ve always been a little…curious.”

“That’s the spirit! Sayonara Batsy!” Harley called, peeling away from the manor. Once she was out of sight, Dick pulled the cowl off and made his way inside the manor.

“Well, that went better than expected. Granted, we’re going to be cleaning up that mess in Arkham for a while,” Dick said smoothly, stopping to hug Alfred.

“But it paid off,” Bruce put in. He turned to Alfred and hugged the man again. “It’s good to have you back, Alfred.”

“I’m glad to see things worked out. While you were busy cracking Arkham, I managed to track down our next lead,” The Question called, coming up from the batcave.

“Where are we headed next?” Dick asked.

“Vatican City. The Catacombs beneath. It was there that the Illuminati once had a base of operations, and there where I believe we’ll find the Broker. Or, if not, at least a trace.”

“Vatican City it is.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred was not happy. His wounds had been bandaged and his arm, bound in a sling, his deeper wounds stitched, and Jason and Roy were doing his work. Granted, it was difficult to do any house work with his arm in a sling, but he loathed being waited on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho hum. This just kind of happened, so I went with it. No regrets. ^.^ So, do enjoy a little bit of fluff and steam, before we get back to the dark and gritty stuff. >:3

Alfred was not happy. His wounds had been bandaged and his arm, bound in a sling, his deeper wounds stitched, and Jason and Roy were doing _his work_. Granted, it was difficult to do any house work with his arm in a sling, but he loathed being waited on.

Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, and The Question had gone on ahead to Italy, leaving Roy and Jason behind. Alfred had insisted that Jason and Roy should go, that he’d be fine by himself, but Jason insisted he’d rather stay behind and look after Alfred. Jason could seem cold, anti-social, and kind of an asshole, but even he had his soft spots and one of them was for Alfred; the man he saw as a grandfather figure. There was no way he was going to leave Alfred here alone, injured, after the last attack. As much as he’d have preferred to go with everyone else to Italy to investigate Vatican City, but he decided that Alfred needed him more.

Currently, the old man was sitting comfortable in an arm chair in one of the manor’s lesser used sitting rooms. He had his feet propped up on a foot stool and was reading _Artemis Fowl; The Last Guardian_. Artemis Fowl was a favored novel series of his, a taste for which he’d spread to the whole rest of the family. He’d even spotted Damian with an Artemis Fowl novel once or twice.

“Here you are Alfred; a nice hot cup of Jasmine Tea with some Curried Chicken Tea Sandwiches,” Jason called as he entered the sitting room and set the tray down on the side table on Alfred’s right. Alfred glanced up from his book as Jason handed him a nice, hot cup of tea and gave it a whiff.

“Mmm, thank you, Master Jason. You still remember how I like it,” Alfred replied, flashing a smile. Jason chuckled a bit and grabbed a cup himself, sitting down on the couch nearby and grabbing a sandwich.

“Of course I do, Alf. You think I’d forget that?” Jason asked, arching an eyebrow. He blew on his tea a bit to cool it down before taking a sip. “Your tea recipes helped me cope with a lot of shit after I first came back, y’know. Helped me sleep,” Jason admitted.

“Well, I’m glad I could have been of service in some small way, indirectly,” Alfred replied, picking up a sandwich. “Mmm, these are delicious, Master Jason. I must say, as much as I loathe others cooking in my kitchen, I really would love to taste more of your cooking.” Jason chuckled in amusement, and then Roy jumped over the back of the couch, flopping down beside his boyfriend and kissing him on the jaw.

“Damn right! I could’ve gotten fat on Jaybird’s cooking! It’s amazing!” Roy replied cheerily. Alfred shot Roy a scathing glare at the red head for jumping over the couch. Roy shrunk back a bit; Batman’s glare made him flinch, but Alfred’s scared the crap out of him. “Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and flashing a sheepish grin.

“This is a manor, Master Roy. Not a barn. I may be injured, but if you ever jump over the furniture like that again, I’ll break both your legs.”

“Didn’t Dick break the chandelier once?”

“You mean the chandelier that’s no longer hanging from the roof near the stairs? Yeah. Dick broke it, then I broke it, then Tim broke it, and finally, Damian broke it, so it was never put up again,” Jason explained, followed by a laugh. Roy grinned from ear to ear and shook his head, and even Alfred sported a smirk.

“Regardless, _we do not use the furniture in such an uncivilized way_ ,” Alfred scolded. Roy shrunk back again and nodded like a child being lectured in school.

“Yes sir,” he answered. The red head glanced down toward the coffee table and noticed an extra cup of tea and some extra sandwiches. He grinned to himself and got up off the couch and grabbed a cup and a sandwich, munching away happily while Jason and Alfred were content to read silently. He sipped his tea and made an ‘mmm’ sound.

“Mmmm, Cinnamon Tea! My favorite! Thanks Jaybird,” Roy cheered, munching happily on his sandwich. Jason glanced up at the man from his book and flashed a smirk.

The room soon grew quiet again with both Alfred and Jason reading books. Alfred was comfortable in his arm chair with his feet propped up on the foot stool, and Jason was nestled into the corner of the couch. Roy on the other hand, was bored and fidgeting around. A lot. It wasn’t that he didn’t like reading, it was just he didn’t feel like reading right now.

“Roy, if you’re bored, go find something to do. You’re ruining the silence,” Jason said evenly without looking up from his book. Roy pouted a little and scooted closer to Jason.

“Aw, but then I can’t hang out with my little Jaybird,” Roy teased with a grin, placing his hand on the top of his book. Jason glanced up at him with a glare.

“First, you call me ‘Little Jaybird’ again, and I’ll yank out your vocal cords,” Jason said, marking his page with a bookmark “and second,” he said, closing the book on Roy’s fingers. Roy yelped and pulled his fingers back, shaking his hand and pouting at Jason “don’t touch my books while I’m reading.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll go play with my toys in the batcave!” Roy replied with a childish grin as he hopped off of the couch and made his way down to the cave. When he got there, he immediately started gathering up some parts and went back to the work bench. It really was pretty amazing; Bruce had a little bit of almost everything!

Of course, not ten minutes later, he became keenly aware of Jason’s presence behind him.

“Hey Jaybird. Done reading?” Roy asked. Jason patted Roy’s shoulder and looked over him at what he was working on.

“Yeah. I just wanted to…spend a little more time with you, y’know,” Jason replied, sporting a light blush. Roy stopped what he was working on and set it aside, then looked up toward Jason.

“Oh yeah?” he asked flashing a smirk. Jason frowned a little and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah. I mean…It’s not like we’ve done much together lately, outside of kicking heads in or--”

“Or almost dying?”

“Yeah, or almost dying,” Jason conceded, earning a snicker of amusement from the red head.

“You talked with Alfred?” Roy asked, arching an eyebrow. Jason blushed a bit more but nodded, conceding the fact.

“Okay, yeah. We _talked_...which is what we do, he and I...and he convinced me we need to...do stuff. Stuff that’s not all doom and gloom, or beating the fuck out of people that deserve it,” Jason replied, his lips canting upward slightly into a smirk. Roy snorted with barely contained laughter.

“Oh, you’re so _eloquent_ , Jaybird,” he teased.

“Fuckin’ bite me, Harper,” Jason replied with a little pout and a hint of tease. “Well,” Jason went on, tugging Roy out of the chair and settling his hands on the man’s hips.

“What d’you say? Think you can put aside your toys for a little bit and--” Jason began, interrupted when Roy yanked him forward by the front of his shirt and pressed his lips against the other’s in a deep kiss.

“You talk too much,” Roy said with a grin as he pulled away. Jason grinned widely and stole another kiss.

“That’s my line,” he answered, shoving his hands up underneath Roy’s shirt and kissing him again. It was clumsy and sloppy, the two of them all hands. They parted long enough to peel off each other’s shirts, but then they were back at each other again, hands touching and feeling every inch of skin, lips melting together. Jason started kissing a trail down Roy’s neck, to his collarbone and bit him lightly, earning a gasp from the red head.

“This isn’t exactly what I originally had in mind, but it’ll do,” Jason muttered with a sultry grin. “You got lube?” Jason asked, unbuttoning Roy’s jeans, pulling down the zip with his teeth. The two of them locked eyes and Roy felt his dick harden instantly. He groaned and ran a hand through Jason’s hair.

“Fuck yeah. Keep a small tube handy, just in case. Right pocket,” he breathed. Jason dug through Roy’s pocket while he mouthed Roy’s cock through his underwear, pulling a gasp out of the man. Jason got to his feet and turned Roy around, leaning around him and clearing off the table with a swipe of his hands, tools and parts clattering to the floor. He shoved the red head down and pulled his boxers down, to his knees, and lubed up his fingers, thrusting them inside the man roughly.

“Nnngh, damn, I love it when you gimme the rough treatment. It’s hot,” Roy muttered with a pleasured groan as Jason struck his prostate with his fingers.

“Yeah?” Jason asked with a smug grin, rubbing and pressing his fingers over the man’s prostate. Roy groaned underneath him, squirming a bit under Jason’s ministrations.

“C’mon, stop teasin’,” Roy pleaded, his voice already thick with lust and desire. Jason grinned and did it again; Roy yelped in response, hips bucking against the table and his cock leaking. “God dammit Jay, please,” Roy whimpered, his head thudding against the table a little. Jason hastily dug through his pocket for a condom, ripping it open with his teeth, then undid the button and the fly on his jeans, shoving them down to his knees. He rolled the condom onto his length, then he grabbed Roy’s hips and pressed the tip of his dick against Roy’s hole, lining himself up.

“You ready Roytoy?” Jason asked, thumbs stroking gently over his skin. Roy, whose face was buried in the crook of his arm, gave a thumbs up in response. Jason bit his lip and slowly pushed his way inside. Roy whimpered and moaned as Jason’s thick length slowly penetrated him, bracing himself against the table.

Jason gripped Roy’s hips righter, one hand sliding gently up and down his side as he pounded into the red head. Jason grunted with effort, leaning over Roy’s back and fucking into him hard.

“C’mon Roy, I wanna hear you,” Jason breathed, reaching forward with one hand to brush gently against his neck, beside his face. Roy whimpered and lifted his head out of the crook of his arm, giving a whine as the head of Jason’s dick brushed against his prostate.

“Nngh, Jaybird, please,” Roy whined when Jason slowed his movements. With one hand, Jason enlaced his fingers with Roy’s on the table, while the other slid off his hip, fingers wrapping around Roy’s throbbing cock, slick with pre.

“Please what, Roy?” Jason asked softly, resisting the urge to just slam Roy into the damn table. Roy whined, trying to push back onto Jason’s cock, but Jason held him tight against the table, preventing him from moving. “Uh, uh, uh. That’s cheating. Tell me what you want,” Jason whispered in his ear, lips curling into a sly grin.

“P-please. Fuck me, Jay. Fuck me,” Roy breathed out, squeezing Jason’s fingers. Jason pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Roy’s neck, than slowly started to stroke the man’s cock, the glide up and down made easier with the pre he was leaking.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jason replied, slamming into Roy hard and pulling a loud moan out of him. Jason rose up to his full height, untangling his and Roy’s fingers to grip his hip. He fucked into Roy hard, while he other hand pumped his leaking length in time with his thrusts. Roy was reduced to a whimpering, moaning mess, a staccato of “please” and “fuck”, and Jason’s favorite “Jay”.

“Jay! Jason! Jaybird, I’m--I’m gonna cum! Please!” Roy cried out. Jason leaned heavily against Roy’s back, once more enlacing their fingers together while he fucked him.

“C’mon Roytoy, you can do it,” Jason whispered in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe. Roy bit his lip and squeeze Jason’s fingers.

“Nnngh, God I love you,” Roy cried out.

“I know,” Jason replied with a grin as he slammed home one last time before he came, still thrusting inside of Roy hard while he rode out his orgasm.

“I love you too,” he whispered in the other’s ear. And with that, Roy came hard, following Jason over the edge in a cry of pleasure. Jason sighed and pressed feather light kisses on the back of Roy’s neck and shoulder as the two of them lay there, breathing heavy, basking in the afterglow.

“God damn,” Roy breathed. Jason simply grunted in agreement. He slowly pulled out of Roy, the other whimpering lightly, and collapsed to the cold cave floor with his pants and underwear still around his knees, but with absolutely 0 fucks to give about it. He pulled off the condom and tossed it into the trash can beside the work desk, which was filled mostly with discarded blue prints and roughly drawn ideas and designs.

As for Roy, the man groaned and finally found the energy to pull his underwear and pants back up, fastening the button again. He dropped down beside Jason and heaved a contented sigh. Jason finally pulled up his own pants, but otherwise, he just continued to lay their, content.

“Hey,” Roy muttered, playfully nudging Jason’s side. Jason propped himself up on his elbows and Roy nodded toward the batmobile. “You wanna fuck in the batmobile?” he asked with a cheeky grin. Jason arched an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between Roy and the batmobile. The old man would be pissed if he found out.

“I’m game. Let’s do it,” he replied with a grin, leaning in and kissing Roy, their lips melting together in a passionate kiss.

“Old man’ll be pissed if he finds out though,” Roy pointed out with a smirk.

“Adventure,” Jason replied.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Vatican City! It’s so amazing!” Dick said cheerily, he, Bruce, Tim and Damian dressed in civilian clothes, disguised like simple tourists. “No matter how many times I see it, it never fails to impress me!”
> 
> “We’re not here to sight see. Stay on task,” Bruce said evenly. Tim snorted in response as he snapped a few pictures with his camera.
> 
> “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it a little,” Tim replied, snapping a picture of the Vatican Obelisk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was...difficult to write. I had to do a bit of research to get things as accurate as possible, but since cameras are forbidden, describing the actual Necropolis was all up to imagination. ~_~ This one really went on, and on, too, lol. Anywho enjoy. More wacky conspiracy theories coming up. xD

“Vatican City! It’s so amazing!” Dick said cheerily, he, Bruce, Tim and Damian dressed in civilian clothes, disguised like simple tourists. “No matter how many times I see it, it never fails to impress me!”

“We’re not here to sightsee. Stay on task,” Bruce said evenly. Tim snorted in response as he snapped a few pictures with his camera.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it a little,” Tim replied, snapping a picture of the Vatican Obelisk.

“Tt. I agree with father. We need to stay focused. This ‘Broker’ could be anywhere,” Damian put in. Tim and Dick snorted in response, snickering to themselves. Dick wrapped an around around Tim’s shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Well, I’m glad at least one of you can enjoy this place. There's _so much_ history here," Dick answered. Bruce heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose; he really shouldn’t have expected any different from Dick. On the other hand, at least he made a convincing tourist. “C’mon, you’re supposed to be good at acting. Give it a whirl, and at least _try_  to enjoy the city,” Dick teased, playfully poking Bruce in the side with his elbow.

The four of them made their way through the crowds and toward Saint Peter’s Basilica. Underneath it, they would find the Vatican Necropolis; The Question seemed fairly certain that that was where they’d find the Broker’s base of operations. It seemed like a good hiding place; a massive burial ground of the dead. There was just one small problem; there were tours through the place, which would make it next to impossible to keep a ‘secret base’ of any kind there.

“Did you get the tickets from the Officio Scavi office?” Dick asked.

“Of course,” Bruce replied, flashing the tickets. Damian snorted but said nothing, and Tim just rolled his eyes. Dick pointed toward the building which had quite a bit of traffic, and together, the four of them made their way there. Dick grabbed Damian’s shoulder and led him away from the rest of them.

“Hey, what’s the big idea, Grayson?!” Damian snarled in a hushed tone. Dick flashed a smile and gestured across the city.

“C’mon, they’re not going to let you into the Necropolis. No one under fifteen is permitted, no exceptions,” Dick explained. Damian turned to Bruce and flash a shocked look.

“What?! What is the meaning of this! I demand an explanation!”

“When they say no exceptions, they mean no exceptions. He even tried to get you a ticket as Bruce Wayne, but they said no,” Tim replied, giving a shrug. “We didn’t wanna tell you, because we knew you’d pitch a fit.”

“Tim,” Dick groaned, heaving an exasperate sigh. Damian glared at him.

“I’ll pitch something alright, and I’ll be sure to aim for your head.”

“Relax. We’ll be back shortly,” Bruce replied.

“Tt, fine.”

“C’mon, let’s go see the sights, have some fun, maybe get some ice cream, eh?” Dick asked with a cheery demeanor, flashing one of his winning smiles as he led Damian away from the church.

“Tt, fine…and they better have chocolate.”

Bruce and Tim watched Damian go, then he and Tim made their way inside the church. The tour guide, a priest donning the typical black clothing and white collar, awaited them with a small group of ten others.

“Are you the Marlones? Jacob--” the Priest said, looking first to Bruce “--and Tristan Marlone?” Bruce flashed a bright smile and wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders, pulling him to his side.

“That’s us! Sorry about bein’ late; we got held up back at the hotel,” ‘Jacob’ replied, ruffling ‘Tristan’s’ hair. Tim flashed a smile but otherwise didn’t say a word. The priest smiled in response and nodded his head.

“It is no worries, you’re actually just in time. Come, let us begin the tour. Please be aware, that taking pictures is strictly prohibited, however,” the priest explained, gesturing toward their cameras.

From there, the priest led the group down, into the Necropolis. Tim and Bruce exchanged knowing looks, keeping their eyes peeled for…well, anything, while the Priest spoke. They passed several sarcophagi of the many Popes that serves in the Vatican, going deeper, down into a darker,section of the Necropolis, the tombs getting older as they went.

“I don’t see anything that would hint at any kind of hidden lair, here,” Tim whispered to Bruce.

“Hm. We have to remember who we’re dealing with. At the very least, we now have a lay of the land,” Bruce whispered back, the two of them hanging back a little ways from the rest of the group. To avoid looking suspicious, they caught up with the group, pretending to look around in a mix of awe and reverence, while actually scoping the place out.

“...And this is the Tomb of Saint Peter, making this, quite literally, the very foundations of the Catholic Church! It was first discovered in 1942 during an archaeological dig. By 1968, after scientists tested bone fragment, Pope Paul the Sixth declared the remains to be the relics of Saint Paul, disciple of Jesus Christ himself, making this, the Vatican Necropolis, one of the most holy sites in the world.”

While the other tourists chatted amongst themselves, Bruce and Tim backed away from the group a little to more comfortably discuss their plan of action for later. Eventually, they followed the priest and the rest of the group back out of the Necropolis and back into the church. From there, they went back out into the city to meet up with Dick and Damian.

They found the two sitting on a bench near the obelisk, eating ice cream. Dick had just finished his, and Damian was polishing off the rest of the cone.

“Oh hey guys. How was it? See anything interesting?” Dick asked with a smile. Damian snorted and finished his cone.

“For the record, this sucked. Tell me you’re not going to leave me with Grayson as a babysitter again tonight?” Damian asked, arching an eyebrow. Dick made a mock gasp and shocked face.

“Oh, but Little D, I thought we were having fun?!” Dick asked, hugging the boy. Damian growled at him and tried to shove him away.

“Cut it out Grayson, or I’ll stab you in your sleep!” Damian protested, earning a snort of held back laughter from Tim, as the young teen managed to pry himself from Dick’s grip.

Dick chuckled a bit and got up to his feet, brushing himself off. He dropped his smile and got back into detective mode.

“Okay, but seriously, what’s the plan?” he asked.

“Tonight, we’re going to infiltrate the Necropolis and do a more thorough investigation of the place. The Question will meet us there tonight. Hopefully, we’ll find the Broker’s base and put him out of business, permanently,” Bruce replied.

“There’s been a distinct lack of resistance from his forces here, though. What if he’s not even here?” Dick asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I’ve thought about that too, and honestly, it wouldn’t be wise to have mercenaries throughout the city. Vatican City, and the Necropolis, are _very_ sacred places. It wouldn’t bode well to shoot the place up. Plus, with this many tourists around, it’d be difficult to take any kind of action anyway,” Time replied. Dick rubbed his chin and nodded in agreement.

“That’s true. Still, digging through the tombs of the Popes is a little…Off-putting. It doesn’t feel right,” Dick replied. “We’re talking about potentially defiling sacred ground.”

“I don’t like it either, but we can’t allow this Broker to continue operating. People’s lives are at stake. He’s toying with people as if they’re play things. It has to end.”

“I know, I know. I just…I don’t like it.”

* * *

 

Night had stretched its black cloak over the night sky with midnight fast approaching. Batman, Robin, Nightwing and Red Robin snuck through Vatican City, sticking to the rooftops and the shadows to avoid detection. It was unsurprising to find that Saint Peter’s Basilica were heavily guarded. They spotted The Question sneaking into the church however, and took that as their queue to follow his lead, to meet up with him inside the Necropolis.

As quiet as a shadow, the four vigilantes made their way toward the church, slipping past the sentries and sneaking by patrols. Getting into the church proved problematic, however, with guards stationed everywhere. Either the Papacy was worried about tomb raiders and thieves, or the Broker had connections and agents even here.

They managed to get into the Necropolis despite the security, however, slipping past the guards with relative ease. For whatever reason, they security was rather low-tech compared to what the Broker seemed to have access to. It was something they could ponder, later.

“So, you’ve arrived. Good. I broke into the Vatican’s “secret archives”. Those archives have long been a nest for conspiracy theory, and indeed, I’ve found some rather revealing information in there. Stole a few folders and tucked them away safely,” The Question explained.

“So that’s where you’ve been? Feeding your conspiracy obsession?” Robin snapped angrily. The Question seemed to ignore him, and produced a folder from his trench coat.

“It was not easy to break into the archives. It has some of the best security in this hemisphere of the world. But I managed to steal this; the original plans for these burial grounds. Long forgotten, stored on a shelf and left untouched, possibly for decades. There is another level to this Necropolis. It is more like an entire catacombs,” The Question explained, opening the folder to reveal a series of _really old_ blueprints, the pages dyed yellow from age.

“I suspect that if there were some sort of secret base here, it would be located on this other level. The archaeologists have yet to discover it, but if the Broker had, he would have had it excavated in secret.”

“Great, so where do we start looking? Any ideas?” Nightwing asked.

“None whatsoever. However, if I had to guess, I would wager that there is a false wall nearby, with a switch hidden in one of these sarcophagi,” The Question answered, gesturing toward them. The four of them stared at the sarcophagi, but Nightwing objected.

“No. I can’t. I can’t be a part of this,” Nightwing replied, raising his hands in the air.

“They’re dead. What does it matter?” Robin snapped. Nightwing glared at him, placing his fists on his hips and leaning forward a bit, as if lecturing a misbehaved child.

“Because we’re disturbing the dead. It’s disrespectful. I won’t do it,” Nightwing answered. “It’s not about superstition or curses, it’s just… _wrong_.”

“Then keep watch, Nightwing. I respect your decision, and I have my own reservations about this, but we don’t have a choice in this,” Batman replied. Nightwing relaxed a bit and gave a curt nod, making his way back toward the entrance to keep a look out.

“I get it. I don’t like this either,” Red Robin muttered.

“Tt, like I said, they’re dead. I doubt they’ll care,” Robin replied, waving his hand dismissively. With that discussed, the rest of them got to their grisly work of finding a hidden switch of some kind. Batman, Red Robin, Robin and The Question searched the Necropolis top to bottom, searching for this elusive switch, or just anything in general that hinted there was more here than what met the eye.

“Hey, I feel a draft here. It’s light, but it’s here,” Red Robin called, standing by a blank wall at a dead end. He gave it a couple of knocks, then gestured to Robin and Batman who each gave a different wall a knock. His sounded different, almost hollow.

“there’s something behind here,” Red Robin said. Batman, Robin, and The Question moved toward the wall and examined it carefully.

“There has to be a way to get through,” Batman said evenly, scratching his chin.

“Simple. Blast it.”

“Absolutely not!” Nightwing called, coming back down the hallway. “This is a sacred place! It’s bad enough we’re down here rifling through peoples’ graves! We are _not_  going to blow things up, too!” Nightwing scolded.

“Nightwing is right. An explosion of any kind would risk detection anyway.”

“Really?! That’s what you’re worried about?!”

“Hold on. I’ve found something,” came The Question’s voice. Everyone turned their attention to him, and saw him standing in front of one of the sarcophagi. “This is a episcopal cross. It’s slightly off kilter. I’ll wager…” The Question trained off. He reached out and tried to turn the cross. At first it didn’t budge, but then it turned into the correct position. The wall they’d all gathered around began to shift, sliding downward and disappearing into the floor.

“Well…that did it,” Nightwing observes. Batman wordlessly made his way toward it, pulling a small but powerful flashlight out of his utility belt and making his way down, with everyone else behind him. What they found was, frankly, astonishing.

There were no sarcophagi, or any sign that there had ever been any down here. Instead, it looked like an old server room, with hundreds of old, seemingly defunct servers from the 1940s. Other than that, there was nothing else here.

“No one here. Seems like the Broker abandoned this place decades ago,” The Question muttered.

“But we’re getting closer. We know he was here and this proves it!” Nightwing pointed out, examining the servers.

“The question is, what now? Seems like another dead end to me. Do any of these things even work?” Red Robin asked, poking around some of them. He couldn’t really figure out how to turn them on, if they even _could_  turn on.

“Don’t bother. The servers would have been wiped of information when the Broker picked up and left. He and his predecessors were meticulous and cautious. They wouldn’t have left anything behind that could lead to their new location,” The Question replied.

“It’s still a step in the right direction. We know his operation was here at one point. That’s far more than we’ve had as of yet.

“Congratulations, Batman. Nightwing. Robin. Red Robin. And. The Question,” came a distorted, robotic voice. Everyone turned to see the source and saw one of the computer screens had turned on, revealing a green, featureless face. “You have found the original base of operations. You have come further than any before you. Truly, you are all Master Detectives,” the voice said.

“How is this thing even working?!” Red Robin asked, examining it.

“You would be surprised what my organization can accomplish. Alas, your journey must be cut short here. I will not allow anyone, even you, to jeopardize my great work. You will be dead soon. These servers were long ago rigged with arc explosives. They will short circuit, and anyone within this room will be electrocuted to death. Goodbye Batman.”

Suddenly, the door sealed shut and all of the servers started turning on. Red lights on them began to flash and sparks began to fly from them. The screen showed a count down of two minutes.

“We need to get out of here!” Nightwing called, racing for the door with everyone else behind him. He, with the help of the others, tried to pry the false-wall back open, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s not moving!” Nightwing called back. Batman was already looking for ways to diffuse the computers.

“We have no choice! We need to…diffuse them somehow!” Batman called. He’d studied all manner of technology during his training before he became Batman, from all different eras. However, this low-tech proved to be challenging; he hadn’t had many opportunities to work with it.

“I…I don’t know how any of this stuff works!” Red Robin called, exasperated as he dug his fingers into his scalp, hopelessly staring at the ancient tech.

“I’m uploading a virus. These old computers are far more vulnerable to viruses and glitches than new tech. If I can just figure it out…” The Question called, frantically typing on the main computer’s keyboard.

“Out of the way, I know how to fix this!” Robin shouted, shoving The Question out of the way and drawing his sword.

“No, we don’t know what that will--” Nightwing called, attempting to stop him. Robin jammed his sword into the main computer and started twisting it, tearing cords, breaking tubes, and destroying circuit boards. The countdown stopped, and the servers simply shorted out. “See? Problem solved,” he said haughtily. Batman pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Great. Now, let’s get out of here and come up with another plan of action.”

“I may be able to help with that. You should come with me. It’;s likely that where ever you made your base of operations, that it is no longer safe or secure,” The Question put in.

“And how can you help? You said he’d be here, and you were wrong!”

“But they were here. I told you earlier, I stole some files from the Vatican’s archives. The Vatican has its own collection of secrets. Perhaps what I’ve swiped will shed some light.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You better kill me right now, because if I survive, I’m going to slaughter each and every one of you,” Slade growled, glaring at each of them.
> 
> “You’re going to either drown, or freeze to death in this water, Mister Wilson. Save the idle threats and know when you’ve been outplayed,” the man replied with a slight smirk. He gave a wave of his hand and his men threw Slade overboard…

The Question led the cadre of bats across Rome, down into the catacombs that lie beneath the streets. It was an odd choice, going from one necropolis to another, but The Question seemed sure that, where they were going, The Broker would not find them. And so they went further into the depths, into a city of the dead with caskets lining every wall, the underground halls of the catacombs dimly lit by torch fire.

The torchlight indicated that people still came down here, tourists and archaeologists mostly, but eventually, they reached a place where the torchlight ended, and where darkness began. They switched to flashlights in order to see in the darkness and then finally, The Question led them to a dead end.

“So, this is it? Please tell me there’s something behind this wall, and that we didn’t come here for nothing,” Nightwing grumbled. The Question turned toward him and reached behind a casket in the wall beside him, pulling a hidden lever.

“We didn’t come here for nothing,” he replied. The wall slide aside and revealed a chamber beyond. The Question led them inside, ushered them in, and then closed the wall behind himself. “I may not be as brilliant as a detective as all of you,” The Question began, descending the stairs and into the chamber which was like a small apartment of sorts, electricity running off of a silent, portable generator which he then activated “but I like to think I excel at sniffing out secrets. This was an unfinished chamber of the catacombs. It leads down to another level, but this whole section was sealed off and abandoned after several deaths occurred down here while the workers dug them out. It was believed that they angered demons, and so they abandoned the work.”

“So, now we have a place to continue our investigation, free from The Broker’s prying eyes,” Batman replied, pulling off his cowl.

“Precisely,” The Question answered, moving over toward a desk on the far side of the chamber. He opened a drawer and pulled out the folders and began passing them out. “As I mentioned, I stole these from the Vatican’s secret archives. Hidden in these, I hope to find some answers.” The Question took his own stack of folders and headed over toward his desk and began searching through them. “Also, apologies for the lack of accommodations and lights. I don’t often entertain guests down here.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘often’?” Dick asked, pulling off his mask and arching an eyebrow. The Question merely stared at him for a few moments before turning back to his work. Damian, Tim, Bruce, and Dick hunkered down and began searching through the folders for anything of note to their investigation.

“Wow…this document implies that the Papacy has been in contact with aliens for generations,” Tim muttered as he read one of the documents from the folders.

“Indeed. Aliens have been amongst us for much longer than you can imagine. There are those, including the Catholic Church, who would have a vested interest in hiding that fact from society,” The Question replied without turning from his work.

“What the--” Dick called out, glaring at the document he was holding.

“What did you find?” Bruce asked, looking up from what he was reading. Dick looked up at him and shook his head.

“Oh, sorry. It’s nothing. This document talks about how the Catholic Church helped many of the Nazis to escape after WWII ended by giving them fake passports.

“You didn’t think Hitler _really_ killed himself in that bunker, did you?” The Question asked. Dick looked up at him and frowned, not liking the implication. “Though I doubt the church would have helped Adolph Hitler knowingly, I believe he escaped to Argentina, where he lived out the rest of his days in peace, and in secret.”

“Tt,” came from Damian’s direction, followed by “this suggests that at one point, there was a female Pope. She masqueraded as a woman, only to be caught, and ousted, after being caught giving birth to a child.”

“Pope Joan. The Catholic Church would have you believe that her existence was a myth. She was a scholar who became the Pope after the death of Pope Leo IV died. After that, they Catholic Church attempted to erase her from history, and crafted a ritual to ensure that only men would be eligible to become Pope,” came The Question’s reply.

“None of this has anything to do with The Broker,” Bruce grumbled.

“Ah, but it does,” The Question replied, drawing everyone’s attention to himself. He turned in his chair and went on “who else than the Broker would be interested in the archives? The greatest collection of secrets in perhaps the whole world.”

“Are you suggesting that The Broker controls the Vatican itself?” Tim asked, arching an eyebrow.

“What do you think?” The Question asked in reply. The chamber went silent at the Question’s reply to Tim. Were that true, it would mean the Broker had much, much more power and influence than they could’ve imagined. Not only would he have his tendrils in every government on the planet, but also in every religion as well. It was almost unimaginable in scope. How could an organization of this size infiltrate…well, _everything?_

Suddenly, Bruce’s communicator was abuzz with life. Bruce grabbed it up; it was Jason.

“Jason, what’s going on?” Bruce asked.

“Batman, We’ve got a problem. Deathstroke has kidnapped Barbara! We need you back here now! Deathstroke is working for The Broker!”

“What?!” Dick shouted. “We’ve gotta get back to Gotham! Barbara is in trouble!”

“Agreed,” Bruce said evenly, pulling his cowl back on. Tim, Damian, and Dick followed suit, while The Question remained unperturbed as he continued his work.

“Arsenal and I pursued him, but we were blocked by The Broker’s soldiers. I managed to plant a tracker on Barbara before they got away though and they’re heading north. We’ve slipped past The Broker’s mercs and we’re following after Deathstroke. Hurry up!” Red Hood snapped, followed by an explosion; the link went dead.

“We’re on our way! Red Hood! Hood!” Batman shouted into the comm link.

“What’s going on?!” Tim asked worriedly.

“The link went dead. We have to go, now. Barbara is in danger. Question,” Batman called, turning to The Question. The Question waved his hand dismissively.

“Go. Save Oracle. I will continue my search. Someone must,” The Question replied. Batman gave a nod in replied, and led the others out of the catacombs. He typed some commands into his gauntlet and minutes later, the Batwing appeared, over head. The four of them made their way up into the jet and Batman turned it toward the United States, punching it at maximum speed.

 

* * *

 

Deathstroke strode through the lower deck of the ship with an unconscious Barbara over his shoulder. He kicked open a door to an empty room and set in her a chair, trying her up. The job, from the Broker again, was to kidnap Barbara Gordon, a.k.a “Oracle”, and use her to lure Batman and his allies into a trap. There was no way they’d allow the Broker to get away with kidnapping one of their own, after all.

It was unusual though, for him to receive so many kidnapping jobs. Typically, they were assassinations. Deathstroke had rarely ever missed a mark, having a job completion record of 98%. The other 2% was when Batman and his allies had gotten themselves involved. They had a nasty habit of showing up at inopportune times.

“Nothing personal, but a job’s a job,” Deathstroke said to the unconscious Barbara Gordon. Truth be told, however, he was pretty wary of his employer. He only knew the man, or woman, whoever, as “The Broker”. He had never been contacted directly, and instead had his jobs and orders given to him through intermediaries. The closest thing he had to direct contact with The Broker, was a screen with a black silhouette of a person on it. Even the Broker’s voice had been disguised, distorted. Someone like this obviously had a lot of secrets to hide. However, The Broker more than came through with his obligations. On just the few jobs he’d done for the man, Slade had made tens of millions of dollars. In addition, he’d been given access to top of the line equipment and the best trained mercenaries he’d ever seen. They weren’t at his level, but they were definitely far above average.

All of this in conjunction with the mystery of The Broker him(or her)self, put him on edge. He kept his guard up, and was suspicious and wary of these mercenaries. He wasn’t stupid by any means; he didn’t trust this Broker. But like he’d said himself; a job’s a job.

Deathstroke strode out of the room, sealing the door behind himself and locking it shut. The security on this boat was insane, especially for what appeared to be a simple cargo ship. The lock on the door was of alien origin, more high tech than any lock of human make. He could feel eyes on him at all times, with cameras lining the hallways and mercenaries patrolling the halls. None of them spoke, but just acknowledged Deathstroke’s presence with simple nods and hand gestures.

As he made his way to the Combat Information Center of the ship, he silently noted every detail of every hallway. To anyone else, it would seem like he was paranoid, but he felt a shift in the air, in the way the mercenaries were addressing and dealing with him. He wasn’t sure precisely what it was, but something told him, in the back of his mind, to expect a betrayal.

Slade stopped before the door that led to the CIC; it stood in stark contrast to the rest of the ship, with a high-tech looking set of sliding doors and a console beside it, with cameras just above the door.

“It’s Deathstroke. The job’s done. The girl, Barbara Gordon, is in her cell. Check your cameras if you don’t believe me.” There was a silence as Deathstroke waited to be admitted to the CIC. Then, over the intercom, came a man’s voice.

“Remove the mask, Deathstroke. We require confirmation.”

“Paranoid bunch, aren’t you?” he asked, with a chuckle of amusement.

“The Broker does not lax when it comes to security. Now remove the mask and confirm your identity.” Deathstroke sighed and removed his mask, running a hand through snow white hair. He scratched his chin a bit, covered in a short, white beard, and looked up to the cameras with his one good eye.

“So, you happy now?”

“Hold still for identity scans.”

Another pause. A blue light shone on Slade’s face, scanning his facial features and likely running other tests. It took all of three seconds before the confirmation came.

“Identity confirmed. Slade Joseph Wilson. Alias; Deathstroke. Access granted,” came a robotic voice. The doors slid open and Deathstroke made his way inside. There were large computer screens hanging all over the room, with a massive table in the center, with a hologram projector in the center of the room. At the table, sat over a dozen unmaskered mercenaries with their leader at the head; the man had short black hair, with piercing, cold blue eyes. He was garbed in the same mercenary gear as the rest of the men and women in the room, save that his had a more elegant adornments on it, setting him apart from the rest, standing out as their leader.

Slade looked around the room, a certain curiosity in him as he looked at some of the screens. Information streamed on each of the screens, the room filled with the noise of the stream of almost constant updates of operatives from across the globe. Some of the screens were lit up with news reports, others reported on the trends of the global markets; the information streaming through this one room alone was impressive in scope. It made him silently question the kind of operation this Broker must’ve had running in his own base of operations.

“We’ve confirmed the capture of Barbara Gordon, also known as Oracle. Your mission is complete and the fund, $25,000,000, will be transferred to your bank account immediately,” the man said to him, waving his hand over a holographic projection that appeared before him. He turned his attention entirely onto Slade then, folding his hands behind his back. He strode carefully toward the man, the other mercenaries either chatting amongst themselves or watching events unfold from their seats around the table.

“I must say, personally, I am highly impressed by your work, Mister Wilson,” the man said smoothly, coming to a stop before Deathstroke. “The Broker, as well as myself, have been following your career for many years. I must admit, it was an honor to work with you, and to witness your skill first hand.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Slade replied in an even tone. The man smirked at him, glancing back toward his men before turning back to Slade.

“And that’s what I admire most about you, Mister Wilson. All business,” he said. He held out his hand and added “our business is concluded. We will contact you, on behalf of the Broker, should your services be needed again.” Slade remained impassive as he stared at the younger man before him. He stared down at the hand offered him, then simply turned to leave.

The doors to the CIC closed behind him. Once again, he could feel the eyes on him. As he strode through the hallways once more, he felt another shift in the atmosphere. Where before, he’d heard the quiet sounds of conversation between mercenaries and crew mates, there was now nothing but complete silence. That did not bode well. He kept his guard up, prepared for a betrayal. As he climbed the stairs up through each deck to reach topside, he was greeted by cold, frigid air. He stared around, out at the endless Atlantic Ocean, the cool air brushing across his face. The first thing he noted, was that the boat he’d come to this ship on, was missing.

He spun around and drew his swords to find the mercenaries surrounding him on the main deck. Here it was; the betrayal. The man who he’d met in the CIC, these mercenaries’ commander, strode onto the top deck.

“Unfortunately Mister Wilson, the Broker has deemed you an unnecessary risk. While we are pleased with your work, The Broker has decided that you must be…disposed of. You know too much now,” the man said smoothly, hands behind his back and face a blank.

“That so? And you kids think you can take me on? Deathstroke? The Terminator? I’ve tangled with worse than you; I’ve fought Superman.” The man chuckled in amusement, finally showing an expression as he clapped his hands.

“Yes, we are all well aware of your feats. We also know that despite our superior skill in comparison to your typical mercenaries, that we still do not possess the ability to take you down, as you say,” the man replied. Slade glared at the man, swords at the ready and watching each and every one of the mercenaries for any sign of attack.

“So then…you let me be on my way, and I’ll forget this happened. You get to breath for a few more days,” Slade replied. Another silence permeated the atmosphere, save for the hum of the ship’s engine, and the sound of the waves gently slapping against the side of the ship.

“I’m afraid not. The Broker is well aware of what you are capable of, and has taken…precautions. Execute Order 916.” The man spoke into his gauntlet. Electrical charges suddenly went off around Slade; they seemed to originate from his own armor, somehow. Slade howled in pain as electricity wracked his body; his blades clattered to the floor and he dropped to his knees.

“W-what the f--”

“The scans we’ve been doing to ensure your identity from the moment we first hired you? They also implanted nano-bots into your armor. A fail-safe, should you ever turn against us,” the man said haughtily, as he paced around Slade. “Or in the event that we needed to dispose of you. When their self-destruction sequence is activated, it released a powerful electric charge that renders the victim incapacitated. Now, with your healing factor, it’d take quite a lot more than that, but we’ll settle for “stunned”,” the man explained. He gestured toward his men who grabbed Slade and dragged him toward the edge of the boat.

“You better kill me right now, because if I survive, I’m going to slaughter each and every one of you,” Slade growled, glaring at each of them.

“You’re going to either drown, or freeze to death in this water, Mister Wilson. Save the idle threats and know when you’ve been outplayed,” the man replied with a slight smirk. He gave a wave of his hand and his men threw Slade overboard…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Almost forgot, there was an important question I wanted to ask. You can vote on it here; the revelation of the Broker's identity! :P https://www.poll-maker.com/poll2061688xc0F2471b-56
> 
> The winning answer will also determine the outcome of this entire conflict. Have fun! >:3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you alright?” Batman asked, stopping before the three of them and addressing Barbara.  
> “Just fine. Let’s just nail this son of a bitch.”  
> “I may be able to help with that,” came The Question’s voice over the comm link. “I think I know where The Broker is hiding.”

“Fuck!” Jason shouted angrily, slamming his fists onto the console of the batcomputer and jumping up out of the seat. The Broker’s men had overwhelmed he and Roy with a combination of sheer numbers and military-precision teamwork; between just he and Roy, it was impossible for them to get through. They watched helplessly as Deathstroke boarded that plane with Barbara.

Forced to retreat, they came back to the cave to try and track where they were going, via the tracking bug he planted on Barbara just before they got away. It was pretty clever actually, and Roy’s idea. Sort of. Like Roy’s tracking arrow, he created a tracking projectile, and fired it from his gun, timed it so it would appear as if he’d nearly been hit and that the shot was a misfire. Unfortunately, the signal just…disappeared, right off the coast of Nova Scotia. He ground his teeth and slammed the console again, only to have Roy come up from behind him and wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, hey! Calm down Jaybird!” Roy said softly. Jason shoved him off angrily and snarled at him. Roy stumbled backward and raised his hands defensively, remaining calm as Jason blew up at him.

“Calm down? _Calm down_?! They took Barbara! And I couldn't stop them!" Jason snapped, pacing back and forth and raking his hands through his hair. Roy slowly approached him again and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Jay, listen; we did everything we could. You can’t beat yourself up for that,” Roy said in a soft, calming tone. Jason took a deep breath and slowly unclenched his fists from his hair, letting his arms fall by his sides.

“You’re right. God dammit, this Broker is kicking the fuck out of us,” Jason snarled again, turning back to Roy, he threw his arms up and added “the fucker is always five steps ahead of us! He’s got a well trained mercenary group, tech to rival our own…”

“What’s the situation?” Bruce asked, entering the cave and pulling off his cowl. Tim, Damian, and Dick followed behind him.

“Where’s Barbara?!” Dick asked, pushing past Bruce. Jason’s expression fell a bit, bowing his head.

“We tried…but they…they had every step planned out. I’m sorry Dickie,” Jason answered softly, flashing an apologetic look. A look of disbelief flashed across his face. He paced across the cave and shook his head.

“No! Dammit!” he cursed.

“What do we do now?” Tim asked.

“We get her back. Find the Broker’s men, and beat them black and blue until they tell us what we want to know,” Damian said darkly. Jason snorted with amusement; were he younger, say his Robin years, he might’ve agreed with that plan.

“Good luck with that kid. The Broker’s men aren’t exactly easy to track down. We ran some of their identities through every database on the planet,” Jason explained, turning toward the computer and bringing up some of the faces he’d seen. “Not a single one of them is registered on any database on the planet. It’s like they don’t even exist.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed at the revelation, but more so because he was thinking. He strode over toward the computer, past Jason, and sat down and brought up the tracking data.

“You said they took a plane to Nova Scotia, and then the trace just disappeared?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Jason replied, a little agitated as he rolled his eyes. He stared at the screen and considered the possibilities. He began to wonder if they continued by boat. If they disappeared just off the coast, it seemed like the most logical solution. The boat had to have some tech on it that scrambled tracking technology, cloaking the signal and stopping the trace.

“There’s no choice. We’ll have to fly out and investigate,” Bruce said evenly. Dick turned and nodded in agreement, but he still had his reservations.

“I agree. But this could be a trap. In fact, it’s _most definitely_  a trap,” Dick replied.

“We don’t have a choice. Barbara is _family_. The Broker _knows_  this. He’s using it. He’s _counting_  on us to come to her rescue and bait us into a trap,” Tim pointed out.

“But if anyone can pull of this rescue, it’s the lot of you,” came Aflred’s voice, arm in a sling as he descended the stairs. “You are all more than capable of rescuing her. You have all endured worse before.”

“Alfred, you should be resting,” Bruce said softly. Alfred snorted.

“Master Bruce, before becoming the Wayne Family’s Butler, I was British Intelligence Agent. I am quite fine, thank you,” Alfred replied.

“Aren’t you the one telling us to always take it ease?” Dick teased, lips curling into a smirk. Alfred glanced in his direction.

“Indeed. And how often have any of you ever listened to me?” Alfred countered.

“Touche,” Dick answered.

“Well, then we have two choices; either we ignore Barbara--” Damian went on, interrupted by Roy.

“Not happening.”

“--or,” Damian continued, shooting Roy an annoyed glare “we can take the bait and flip his little game on its head. I vote for the latter. This ‘Broker’ underestimates his prey. I say we make him suffer for it.”

“Kid, that sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Jason put in. Damian snorted, but gave a nod nonetheless.

“Well, it’s about time we agreed on _something_ , Todd.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with Damian and Jason. The direct approach might be our best bet. If anything, we’ve already seen that stealth gets us nowhere,” Tim put in.

“Right. I’m with these guys. We should just attack,” Dick added.

“Well, may as well throw my lot in with you guys,” Roy added with a shrug of his shoulders. He padded over to Dick and Jason and wrapped his arms around both their shoulders. Bruce frowned as, one-by-one, they all opted for a direct attack on the Broker. He got up from the chair at the batcomputer and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Alright then. The direct approach it is.”

* * *

 

Batman flew his plane out over the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of Nova Scotia, carrying Batman, Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing, Arsenal and Red Hood. Unlike the Batwing, it was more of a troop transport vehicle, yet still far more advanced than most modern planes. From there, they headed north. They weren’t sure if they were going that way, but they followed the trend, which was northward. They kept their eyes peeled for…well, they weren’t entirely sure, but Batman seemed sure he’d be able to find them.

“Hey look,” Red Hood called, looking out the window of the plane. Everyone else looked and there, on an iceberg floating through the Atlantic Ocean, they saw a figure.

“Hmm. I’m taking us down to investigate,” Batman said evenly, lowering the plane. They hovered over the iceberg, allowing Nightwing, Arsenal, and Red Hood to go down and investigate. To their complete surprise, it was--

“Well, I was wondering when I’d run into you again. But then I promised we’d meet again, didn’t I, Red?” Slade asked with a smirk, glancing up at Red Hood with his good eye. Jason pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm, glaring at the mercenary. He was silent for a moment, content to glare angrily at him, until he looked up to the plane.

“Damian, gimme your sword! Bullets aren’t enough! I wanna stab him,” he shouted. Moments later, Damian’s sword dropped down from the plane and Jason caught it and unsheathed it.

“Jason, stop,” Dick scolded. Jason mock pouted and leaned the sheathed blade over his shoulder.

“You really know how to ruin a guy’s fun, don’t you? I wasn’t gonna kill him,” Jason replied. “Maybe a little bit. But he woulda lived.”

Kind of ironic, isn’t is Slade?” Dick asked, arching an eyebrow. The grizzled old mercenary shifted his position a little and chuckled a bit in response.

“Yeah, I suppose it is. Though it wouldn’t be the first time my employer tried to kill me. Probably the closest they ever got to succeeding though,” he replied.

“How are you still alive?” Roy asked.

“Rage is a hell of an anesthetic.”

“Preaching to the quire,” Jason mused, earning a glare from Dick.

“So what say we make a deal? You get me off this chunk of ice, and I help you get your girl back,” Slade offered.

“And what makes you think we need your help?” Dick asked. Slade made a face and shrugged his shoulders.

“This guy’s been one step ahead of you all this time. Likely set a trap for you on that ship, too. I know where it and, and bonus, I’m willing to help. Broker won’t be expecting that, now will he?”

The three vigilantes exchanged looks and thought about the proposition, before turning their attention back to Slade.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we brought this asshole,” Damian huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Slade completely ignored the teen, glancing out the window and spying the ship below.

“That’d be it. This is where I make my exit. Meet you on the deck,” Slade explained, donning his mask and jumping out of the plane, down into the water below. Batman took the plane closer to the ship and he and the others jumped out, the plane going on autopilot. The six of them landed on the deck of the ship; it looked deserted, as if there had never been anyone on it in the first place.

“Be prepared for anything,” Batman muttered as everyone wordlessly drew their weapons.

“$50 says they pop out like cockroaches and surround us,” Jason bet.

“$50 says they wait until we get down below deck,” Dick counter-bet, flashing Jason a grin. Moments later, mercenaries started pouring out of the woodwork; a trap door, well hidden behind them near the front of the ship, slid open with more mercenaries pouring out. Soon enough, the six of them found themselves surrounded.

“Called it. And that’d be $50,” Jason called to Dick.

“Lucky guess,” Dick shot back.

“We’re going to have to cut your mission short. You’ve caused nothing but headaches for the Broker,” came the mercenary leader’s voice. He came up from the deck, armed with an assault rifle that looked like it had been plucked from the future. “You’re good at preparing for every outcome, Batman. All of you are. But you’re in over your heads. Even should you get past us here today, which you won’t, the Broker will inevitably kill you.”

“Not today,” came Slade’s voice. Throwing knives flew through the air and embedded into the throats of three men. Slade came flying over the railing of the ship, landing on two more, crushing one man’s wind pipe with his knee, and snapping another’s neck.

“What?! You’re supposed to be dead!” the mercenary captain yelled. “Fire! Kill them all!”

“I told you; you should’ve killed me when you had me. I made you a promise, not a threat,” Slade shot back. The mercenaries barely got a chance to raise their guns before Arsenal, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Batman joined the fray.

“Nightwing, Robin, go rescue Oracle!” Batman ordered.

“You don’t need to tell me twice!” Nightwing called back, sliding underneath a mercenary, striking two in the knees with his escrima sticks, before jumping back to his feet. Robin followed after him, taking down the men that Nightwing had disabled with a few, rapid strikes.

“Do NOT let them at the girl! Lockdown, lockdown! They all die! Kill them!” the mercenary leader ordered.

“Slade no!” Batman shouted. The merc leader turned just in time to be grabbed by the throat by Slade.

“Still admire my work? Let me give you a demonstration,” Slade hissed, throwing the man across the deck. The man skidded across the deck, toppling head over heels. Before he could recover, Slade was on him again, pulling out a side arm and kicking the assault rifle out of his hands. The merc quickly drew a dagger and stabbed at Slade, forcing him to back off.

“Slade, enough! There are enough dead already!” Batman barked, fighting through the mercs that seemed to keep coming endlessly.

“Not quite yet,” Slade replied, he and the merc leader fighting hand-to-hand. “Not bad rookie. You were trained well,” Slade complimented. The merc opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a blow to the gut. As he doubled over, Slade jammed the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger; the merc leader dropped to the ground, dead.

“Red Robin, we need a hand here! They’re shutting us out, locking the place down! We need your hacking skills!” came Nightwing’s voice over the comm link.

“And make it quick. We don’t have all day,” Damian put in.

“Go, we’ll cover you,” Batman called. Red Robin hunkered down and brought up a holographic display over his gauntlet. Arsenal and Red Hood rushed to his side, taking up a line of defense for him.

“I hate to echo the demon brat, but please be quick,” Arsenal called over his shoulder, firing arrow after arrow at the mercs, while Jason showered them in non-lethal electric bullets.

“Yeah, the devil spawn is right; we need you to be quick,” Red Hood added in.

“I know, I know! All of you rushing me is not helping,” Red Robin snapped as he typed away furiously. He began running his hacking programs but was startled to see the level of security this place had. He employed every hack, program and bypass he knew of. “Come on, come on. Every system has a weakness,” he muttered to himself. He drowned out the sounds of combat around him and focused solely on the task.

“Red Robin--” Nightwing called, followed by the sounds of combat over the comm link.

“Got it! Ha, the system is mine! Opening it all up!” Red Robin replied.

Nightwing and Robin fought their way through the mercs with Red Robin instructing them over the comm link.

“I’ve only got thirty seconds before the system corrects and repairs itself, so listen carefully; go down to the next deck, take a left, a right, a left, and she’s in the third room on the right,” Red Robin explained. Nightwing and Robin made their way through the ship, down to the next level, following Red Robin’s instructions. Finally, they found the room and Nightwing kicked it open.

“It’s about time. What took you guys so long?” Barbara asked with a bright smile, unbound from here chair. “I tried to save myself, but there was only so much I could do without a wheelchair,” she explained. Nightwing laughed and lifted her up into his arms.

“What’re you talking about? Chair or no, you’re a bad ass,” he replied.

“Flatterer and knight in shining armor. How sweet,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“I think I’m going to puke,” Robin said flatly, glaring at the two of them. As the three of them made their way up topside, the mercenaries who Slade hadn’t killed, had been rounded up and tied up. Slade, or rather Deathstroke, now had all of his gear back.

“Are you alright?” Batman asked, stopping before the three of them and addressing Barbara.

“Just fine. Let’s just nail this son of a bitch.”

“I may be able to help with that,” came The Question’s voice over the comm link. “I think I know where The Broker is hiding.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’ve gathered and sorted through all of the intel on the boat. None of it was relevant to the Broker’s location. Question, you said you have something?” Batman asked. The Question, who was sitting at the batcomputer, turned in the chair, fingers steepled.
> 
> “Indeed I do. Or rather, I have a theory, and a hunch, but I suspect I am correct.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho hum. Honestly, I was kind of hoping people would vote to keep his identity a secret. Not because I didn't have anything, but because the possibilities were literally limitless. xD The Broker could've been _literally anyone._ Well, I think I've done a good job with this one. Hehe. Additional note at the end, but don't read until you've read the chapter. Also, the end note is a Spoiler for RHATO Rebirth. You have been warned.

Deathstroke made his escape in the confusion, leaving everyone else to their own devices. Batman sent everyone else to Italy to grab The Question and then head back to the Batcave. He and Tim remained behind on the boat, to gather as much intel as they possibly could. It took a good six hours to sift through it all before they headed back to the batcave; Batman summoned the batwing to take them back. When he and Red Robin arrived, everyone else, The Question included, was waiting for them.

“We’ve gathered and sorted through all of the intel on the boat. None of it was relevant to the Broker’s location. Question, you said you have something?” Batman asked. The Question, who was sitting at the batcomputer, turned in the chair, fingers steepled.

“Indeed I do. Or rather, I have a theory, and a hunch, but I suspect I am correct.”

“Well? Let’s hear it then,” Barbara asked, wheeling toward him from across the cave. The Question rose from the chair and began to pace back and forth across the cave.

“In 1944, Hitler began sending Nazi soldiers to Antarctica to scout out the potential for establishing a forward base,” The Question began, pausing for a moment to glance across the cave at everyone. “It was a high strategic location; form Antarctica, he would have access to the entire world.”

“Another Conspiracy Theory. Of course,” Damian said with a derisive snort, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. The Question ignored him, however, and continued.

“The Nazi began building an underground base of operations in Antarctica, but alas, they never finished it. The war was lost in 1945 with the supposed death of Hitler. Without their leader, the Nazi Party began to collapse. The party members were hunted throughout the world as war criminals, and the Antarctic Base never came to fruition. However--”

“You believe that The Broker has taken up residence in this lost Nazi base?” Dick filled in.

“Precisely. After the fall of Nazi Germany, other nations attempted to follow their lead. The United States, Russia, China, they all made a race to Antarctica to try and claim it for themselves. None of them have succeeded. But I believe The Broker has.” A silence settled over the cave as they considered the implications; if this were true, they finally knew where to find The Broker.

“I say we go on the offensive. We fly out to Antarctica and hit the Broker where he lives,” Jason said firmly. Roy stepped up beside him and patted his shoulder.

“Jaybird’s right; if there’s a chance he’s there, we can storm his base and end his operation once and for all.”

“Pfft, you’re just agreeing with him because you’re--” Damian began, interrupted by Jason.

“Sleeping with me? Well yeah, and lemme tell ya it’s--”

“Okay, that’s enough from both of you. Damian, stop antagonizing, and Jason,” Dick interrupted the two of them, turning to Jason and arching an eyebrow “TMI.” Dick turned back to The Question. “So I can’t help but to agree with Jason and Roy. We can’t wait around formulating a plan. Besides, even if we came up with one, whose to say The Broker won’t already know it when we get there?”

“Agreed. Gear up and head for Antarctica. I’ll meet you there,” Batman said smoothly, heading for the zeta tube at the back of the cave.

“Where are you going?” Jason asked, arching an eyebrow. But he got no answer, as the man disappeared through the Zeta Tube gate.

* * *

 

Antarctica came into sight as Nightwing flew the Batplane toward the frozen continent. They couldn’t see anything in the endless expanse of snow and ice. Regardless, Nightwing brought the plane down, and it was carrying Red Hood, Arsenal, Red Robin, Robin, and The Question.

“What’re we looking for?” Nightwing asked as he flew the plane over head of the frozen continent. The Question didn’t answer as he surveyed the terrain carefully. Finally, after a few minute’s silence, he turned to Nightwing.

“It is my belief that there is a Kryptonian Scout Ship buried here, deep beneath the ice. Aliens have frequently visited us in the distant past; The Ancient Egyptians, the Rappa Nui People of Easter Island, Pumapunku near Tiwanaku in Western Bolivia.”

“So, the Ancient Astronaut theory?” Roy asked.

“Indeed. And I think we’ will be able to find it with this,” The Question replied, producing a sigil with the “S” seal of House El on it. “This, I stole from the Vatican Archives as well.”

“Alright, well, let’s have a look then,” Nightwing replied.

“It is nearby. The Sigil is giving off a subtle vibration,” The Question said. He looked out the window and pointed toward a hill. “There.” Nightwing flew the plane down, touching down on the ice. Everyone jumped off the plane and The Question jogged ahead, toward the hill. Suddenly, the ice there cracked as a pair of metal doors slid aside and mercenaries poured out of it, some of them riding in power suits.

“Shit,” Nightwing cursed, drawing his escrima sticks. Red Hood drew his guns, Red Robin, his bo staff, Arsenal is bow and arrows, and Robin is katana. But before they could engage, a black suit of armor slammed down into the ground before them and easily took out the mercenaries, the sound of screaming filling the air. The armor turned, black and red, with a red bat symbol on the chest, and a red bat-shaped visor on the helm.

“It’s called the Hellbat. I rebuilt it on the moon’s Batcave,” Batman explained.

“You have a fucking base on the moon?” Red Hood asked incredulously.

“Nevermind that! Look at this fucking thing! It’s sick!” Arsenal near-squealed excitedly as he started checking the suit out.

“There’s no time for this. Let’s get in there and put an end to the Broker’s schemes, once and for all,” Batman replied. He turned toward the metal door and grabbed it with both the Hellbat’s hands, ripping the whole top off, ice cracking and metal shrieking, tossing is aside.

“Well…so much for knocking,” Red Hood said, smirking behind his mask as he followed after him, with the rest coming up behind him. The descended into the cave which led to, as The Question had accurately called, a crashed Kryptonian Scout Ship. The Question stepped ahead of them all and pressed the sigil into the door; the doors slid open and granted them access.

“All personnel, respond to the threat immediately. The Batman and his allies do not get through,” came the distorted voice of the Broker. They could hear the sounds of footsteps racing toward them, and no sooner did they get inside, they were greeted with a hail of gunfire.

“All soldiers, hold the line! The Batman and his allies do not get past us!” one of the mercs shouted. The Hellbat charged forward, unimpeded by the gunfire, with everyone else behind it. The mercs screamed and scrambled as Batman easily took them down.

“Don’t forget about its weakness! Be careful!” Nightwing warned.

“Yeah, don’t need you croaking on us, old man,” Red Hood put in. Red Robin charged in past the Hellbat armor, bo staff swinging. He quickly took down several mercenaries as they raised their guns to fire on him, then ducked out of the way from a hail of gunfire, hiding behind a wall. Red Hood and Arsenal pushed forward next, Hood firing a hail of electric bullets, and Arsenal covering him with a series of well-placed polyurethane and taser arrows.

Nightwing was next, using the Hellbat armor as a spring board and leaping high into the air; as he corkscrewed through the air, upside down, he threw several wing-dings at the mercenaries, then Robin closed the distance and took them out, once their weapons were disabled.

The team pushed their way forward, on into the next room, but the distracted from the mercenaries had given them rest a chance to set up defenses. Hard light barrier walls were erected with generator pylons nearby, that both powered the barriers and gave the mercs their own, light shielding. Red Hood discovered this when his bullets seemed to be stopped, just millimeters from their targets by an unseen force.

“Hold on, I’m getting the floor plans for the ship. I’ve managed to hack into the ship’s security, but the Broker’s network has substantial security. It’s proving to be exceedingly difficult to break in,” came Oracle’s voice over the comm link.

“Immediate threats first,” Batman said. He charged the line, but a mercenary rounded the corner with a flame thrower and showered the armor in a blast of fire. The heat inside went up quickly, forcing Batman to retreat.

“Dammit, they’ve got a strong line of defense. I can’t get past that flamethrower,” Batman cursed. He turned to find both Robin and The Question missing. That was when they heard the shouts. The two of them snuck through and were taking them out from behind. As The Question dived out of the way of the flame thrower, Robin rolled to the other side and charged the man, cutting the fuel line to the tank on his back. The man panicked and threw the pack aside; it exploded and sent the mercenaries scattering all over the hall.

“Let’s go!” Robin shouted. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, and Arsenal charged past the unconscious mercenaries and made their way forward.

“Okay, listen; I’m still having serious trouble breaking into the system, but there’s a massive surge of electricity coming from a room two floors below you. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s the core of his operation. You’ll likely find The Broker there,” Oracle explained.

“Got it! Let’s go!” Nightwing called, allowing Batman to lead the way. As they made their way down to the next level, a rocket came flaying toward them. Batman jumped in front of it and took the impact, crashing into a wall nearby.

“Ungh. Go,” Batman ordered, slowly getting to his feet. A grenade came flying their way and Red Hood shouted, ushering everyone back. The Hellbat armor took the brunt of it again; it was an arc grenade. With the armor shorted out, Batman was forced to leave it.

“Open fire!” a mercenary shouted. They opened fire on Batman who was tackled out of the way by Red Hood.

“You’re welcome,” Hood replied, ducking out of cover to fire back. “You gonna be alright old man?”

“I’ll be fine. The armor just took the wind out of me. Give me a minute,” Batman replied, taking a few, deep breaths. The gunfire forced everyone to hunker down; suppressing fire. They weren’t going to let up.

“What now?” Arsenal asked, looking around at everyone.

“Got it!” Oracle called, followed up by the door in front of the mercenaries closing. “I’m in, but not for long. I’ve close the door and opened another one, off to the left. Hurry.” The seven of them dashed down the hall and took a left, through the doorway which led to the next level.

“Crap, I’m locked out again. I need time to get back in. I can only get in in small bursts. The system auto-corrects and kicks me out after thirty seconds or so,” Oracle explained.

“It’s fine. Where to?” Batman asked.

“Should be down the hall; take two lefts and a right,” Oracle answered. The seven of them made their way off, down the halls, following Oracle’s directions. There, they came to the door they were looking for, but also a blockade.

“We’ve got a problem,” Nightwing called, shouting for everyone to duck as a rocket came flying their way. Everyone dived out of the way, the door to the room blocked off by a dozen mercenaries. Two had rocket launchers, one had a flame thrower, and the rest were armed with assault rifles. It was a hallway with littler coverage, meaning a direct attempt would be literal suicide.

“Great. Now what?” Red Hood asked, growling to himself as a bullet nicked his shoulder. Thank god for body armor. A grenade came flying in their direction and skidded to a stop beside them. Without thinking, Arsenal quickly jumped out of cover and kicked it back. He got a bullet wound to his shoulder for the effort but the grenade went off and electrocuted the mercs, knocking them out cold.

“Roy, are you alright?” Jason asked, pulling off his helmet kneeling beside him.

“Ow. I think so, but--” he hissed when he tried to move his shoulder “that really hurt.”

“You fucking dumbass! That was completely fucking stupid! And I’m supposed to the be the reckless one!” Jason scolded angrily. Roy chuckled in amusement and sat up, clutching his wounded shoulder.

“I’ve done dumber things,” he said. Jason rolled his eyes and Tim knelt beside them.

“I’ll take him out of here. You guys go ahead,” Tim said.

“You sure?” Dick asked. Tim grunted with effort as he helped Roy up to his feet.

“I’m sure.”

“Hey. You come back alive, Jaybird, you hear me?” Roy called to him, flashing a weak glare. Jason snorted and moved toward him.

“Don’t I always, dumbass?” he replied. The two smiled at each other and Jason leaned in for a quick kiss before pulling his helmet back on.

“Ugh, I’m gonna be sick,” Tim teased.

“Shut up and get that dumbass outta here, would ya?” Jason replied, cocking his gun. “We got a scum bag to put down.” The remaining five of them approached the door; it slid open. They exchanged looks, then entered the room cautiously.

The walls were lined with servers and screens that cascaded information, secrets, news stories, and so much more. There was a wide open space in the middle of the room, with a desk at the back. 

“Congratulations. You’re the first person in history to ever reach The Broker’s inner sanctum,” came a voice. As the chair slowly spun around to reveal the Broker’s identity as--

“Dad,” Jason breathed, taking off his helmet.

“Hello son,” Willis said, with a smug grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I know this might not be a popular choice, but it was an idea that I thought of after catching up on RHATO (2016). I decided to put my own little spin on that. I promise a good explanation is forth coming in the next chapter. Until then. ;)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” Jason asked, arching an eyebrow. Willis chuckled, grin spreading across his face. He leaned forward against his desk, steepling his fingers.
> 
> “Supposed to be, being the operative word,” Willis quipped.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” Jason asked, arching an eyebrow. Willis chuckled, grin spreading across his face. He leaned forward against his desk, steepling his fingers.

“Supposed to be, being the operative words,” Willis quipped. Bruce growled and attempted to apprehend him, but an invisible wall blocked his path. “Oh, I’m afraid you’ve come all this way for nothing. You see, that is a kinetic barrier. Fun piece of technology, that. The more you strike it, the stronger it gets.” Willis rose from his chair and rounded the desk, shoving his hands in his pockets as he approached the group. “You’d be surprised what kind tech, or hell, magick even, that I have at my disposal.

“How’d you do it?” The Question asked, approaching the barrier. Willis turned toward The Question and grinned.

“Ah, now there’s a good question,” he said, pacing a little in front of them. “I know you, all of you. I know your secrets, I know your fears, and I know…well, everything.” He stopped and turned toward them again, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Meanwhile, you all stumble in the dark, ignorant of the workings of the very world itself. In fact,” Willis went on, opening his arms out wide. “I’d argue that this is the engine of the world!” Willis gave a light laugh then padded over to the desk. He reached inside and grabbed a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a few puffs.

“But back to your question. You’ve been a good sport and made it here; no one, and I mean no one other than the Broker, has ever set foot inside this room.”

“You sound proud of that fact,” Dick said. Willis chuckled, taking another puff of his cigarette.

“Well, it is quite the accomplishment. And so is you, being here.” Willis took another drag on his cigarette, pausing for dramatic effect. “You see, my predecessor was on his final days. No disease was ever going to take him, no. As The Broker, he had access to the best doctors and medicine in all the world. No, old age had come to claim him.” He took another drag on his cigarette. “He needed a nobody to replace him. A literal nobody, a person that no one would miss, that no one would notice was gone, someone who could hide in plain sight; invisible to the whole rest of the world.”

“So he chose you. Well, congratulations, _Willis_. You’re still a nobody,” Jason quipped. Willis laughed and made his way back over to his desk, putting the cigarette out in the ashtray and flicking it into the trash can.

“You’re absolutely right; I’m a nobody,” he replied, turning back to face his son. “I’m the most powerful nobody in the world! My predecessor offered me all of this! I didn’t believe him. In fact, I figured he was full of shit. But twenty in prison has a way of making you grasp at even the smallest hint of freedom. He helped to fake my death, then trained me to become the next Broker; I’m just the latest in a long, long line of nobodies. The most powerful, influential, richest nobodies in human history!” Willis gave a laugh. He sauntered over toward the group again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Did you known, all of you, save for Damian, possess the metagene?” Willis said, arching an eyebrow.

“Wait, why not me?” Damian scowled.

“You were engineered, kid.”

“What does that have to do with anything,” Jason snapped angrily. Willis was silent for a few moments, eyeing each one of them in turn.

“It’s a simple proposal; a deal if you will. I have access to advanced technology, human and alien alike,” Willis began. He turned his back on them and moved toward the desk and began pacing. “You leave now, forget you know of this place, and I, with my vast trove of secrets and technology--” he paused, turning back to them and said “will unlock your metagenes for you. Think about it; with your skills, intelligence, combat experience, and now powers? Your crusade against crime could reach new heights.”

“Tempting. But no. We could fight crime all across the world, usher in a golden age of peace, even,” Bruce growled “but no; you will still exist. As long as The Broker sits in the shadows, pulling the strings of the world, that could never happen. Because you need crime don’t you? You need conflict for this little operation of yours to thrive. Conflict is where you get your secrets, how you get your leverage. It’s all just a scam to make yourself rich.”

“Bruce Wayne. The man who dresses in a bat suit to beat up criminals because someone killed mommy and daddy. It’s sad. Pathetic even,” Willis snapped at him. “But your work has been quite impressive. Despite having a truly pathetic origin story, you’ve done so much for, not just Gotham, but the world.” Willis approached the barrier again, coming face to face with Bruce. “And yet for all your intelligence, you’re still just an ignorant, rich jackass.”

“Been sayin’ that for years,” Jason muttered, getting an elbow in his side from Dick.

“You think this is all just about making money? You think the world is all black and white? Well it’s not. You see, when I first started training, I thought similarly to you; how could I use this to make myself rich and powerful,” Willis began, moving across the room to sit at his desk. “But then I began to see this place for what it is; a scale. The Broker exists to make sure the scales of the world remained balanced. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be. Sure, we buy, sell, and trade information to pretty much anyone who possesses something we desire,” Willis went on, leaning against his desk “but we also leverage people in positions of power. We make sure that nobody gets a leg up, that nobody gets too greedy, and that the scales of power remain…balanced. Otherwise…well, you remember World War 2, don’t you? That’s what happens when someone amasses too much power. My predecessor made some…mistakes. And he helped to correct them.”

“So, basically, you’re saying humanity is like a bunch of children, and you’ve elected yourself to be the parent? Totally not Orwellian at all,” Dick quipped, rolling his eyes. Willis chuckled in amusement.

“Mmm, yes, that’s true. George Orwell couldn’t have dreamed this shit up. But Bruce Wayne could have,” Willis replied, glancing over at Bruce. “We found and stole a copy of your plans for…what was it you called it? Brother Eye?” Everyone turned their attention onto Bruce, who glared at Willis. “Here we are, ladies and gentlemen; the man behind the mask who claims the moral high ground and acts like some…self-righteous moral authority on what is good, and what is evil.” Willis moved across the room again and stood before Bruce. “A hypocrite.”

“What’s he talking about Bruce?” Dick asked.

“Bruce…what the fuck is Brother Eye?” Jason snapped.

“Go on. Tell them Bruce. Tell them how you were designing a satellite, a semi-autonomous artificial intelligence surveillance system, to collect a massive database of information on every meta human on the planet. Oh, George Orwell eat your heart, you were on a path to be _just. Like. Us_.” Willis laughed as Bruce punched the barrier.

“That satellite was meant to protect people! Not spy on--”

“So metahumans aren’t people?” Willis interrupted.

“That’s not what--”

“And yet here we are! Your technology helped leap this operation forward by leaps and bounds! Except, we use it to keep the world in balance! You wanted to use it to put yourself on top of the world; the undisputed king of morality!”

“No!”

“Yes! But we’ve wasted enough time talking! I’m going to kill you, all of you, one by one! It may tip the balance, but I can fix it. You can all be replaced,” Willis shouted back, grinning from ear to ear. He stormed across the room to his desk and began typing some commands onto the console. He turned back toward the vigilantes as a pedestal came up through the floor with a ring on the stand. Willis approached it, plucking the ring, with had a gold band with a green stone on it, and put it on he finger. Willis snapped his fingers and the barrier fell.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Jason said with a grin, cracking his knuckles and putting his helmet on. Willis smiled smugly and places his hands behind his back. Jason charged him with his guns drawn.

“No wait! Something’s not right!” Dick called after him. Jason jumped into the air and brought his heel down toward Willis’ head. Willis reached out and caught Jason’s foot with ease.

“What the fu--” but before Jason could finish that sentence, Willis threw him across the room like a rag doll. Dick jumped in the caught and caught him, the two vigilantes sliding across the floor, hitting the wall. Willis unfolded his hands from behind his back and held up his hand with the ring on it.

“You’re probably wondering how I threw you across the room like nothing? Well you see this gem here?” Willis asked, tapping the glowing green gem with his index finger on his other hand. “It’s a lovely little mineral accidentally created by Supergirl called “X-Kryptonite”. It grants a number of temporary Kryptonian powers to non-Kryptonians.”

“Great. Just what we needed; a Kryptonian without a weakness,” Damian huffed in annoyance, sheathing his sword. Willis laughed.

“Did you really think The Broker would just be some helpless pencil pusher? That once you got through all the mercenaries, all the technology, the security, that it’d be as easy as cuffing him and carting him off to prison?” Willis asked, clenching a fist. “No, The Broker plans for every eventuality. Despite my efforts to stop you, I planned for this meeting long before you arrived here.”

“It doesn’t matter what toys or secrets you have; it ends here, Willis,” Bruce growled. Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, and The Question lunged in at The Broker, a simultaneous attack in an attempt to overwhelm him. Willis, however, didn’t seem to concerned. He ducked a punch from Batman and retaliated with a punch of his own, sending the man crashing against the wall. He ducked as Nightwing threw a kick, then threw him into his desk. As Red Hood attempted to pistol whip him, he grabbed his arm and threw him into Robin.

“Ow,” Jason muttered.

“Get off me, Todd,” Damian snapped. Jason rolled off of Damian and pushed himself up onto his feet.

“Well, that went swimmingly.”

“Care for round 2? I have all of Superman’s powers, with none of his weaknesses. In fact, I’m rescinding my offer. Here’s a new deal; leave now and live, or die,” Willis said casually, firing heat beams from his eyes at Batman. Batman dived out of the way and fired a line at Willis, tugging on it hard once it wrapped around the man’s legs. Willis growled as Nightwing, Robin, The Question and Red Hood descended on him to try and subdue him, but he threw them all off, snapped Batman’s line, then stalked over to his desk and threw it at them.

Nightwing raced toward him, jumping, and sliding over the desk as it came at him in mid air. He electrified his escrima sticks, dodging a swipe from Willis, then quickly landing a series of blows on him. Willis howled in pain as electricity coursed through his body, then turned and managed to land a blow on Nightwing, sending him crashing into a server.

“You get to die first,” Willis growled, stalking toward Nightwing as he faded in and out of consciousness.

“Don’t touch him!” Damian and Jason roared in unison as they attacked. Damian went low, striking Willis in the stomach, while Jason punched him in the face. As they jumped away from Willis, Batman dived in, grabbing Willis by the throat and throwing him away from Nightwing. The Question followed up by clothes-lining the man. As he attempted to stomp him, Willis grabbed his foot and threw him into the attacking Batman.

“Enough! The game ends here!” He shouted, attempting to kill The Question and Batman with his heat vision. Several moments passed and nothing happened. “What?! But I--” he said shocked, then looked down at his hand and noticed the ring, gone.

“Looking for this?” The Question asked, showing the man the ring.

“What?! No, give me that!” Willis snarled, attempting to retrieve the ring. Instead, he got pistol whipped in the face and stumbled backward. When he recovered, he stood facing an unmasked Jason who had a gun pointed right at his forehead.

“I’m surprised you’re even alive, _Willis_. Not so much that you’re a _still_  a fucking scum bag. But that ends now. I’m gonna put a bullet in your fucking brain, and put you where you belong; in the dirt with the maggots,” Jason snarled angrily.

“Jason no!” Bruce called after him. “He must stand trial! Killing him…it wont change what he’s done!” Jason glanced over his shoulder at Bruce and snorted.

“Are you _fucking_  stupid? He’s The Broker! All the courts are in his god damn pocket! Nobody is going to convict this mother fucker,” Jason snapped. He turned his attention onto Willis, brow furrowing as he glared at the man. “We kill him now, it ends _for good_. No chance he’ll ever get free and terrorize anyone ever again. We let him live, chances are, he buys his way out of trouble and disappears to some other base where we’ll never find him again.” Jason glanced over his shoulder again and added “I know my father better than anyone. He’s a cockroach.”

“And what do you think Roy would want you to do?” Jason growled when the man played the ‘Roy’ card. Roy would’ve stood by him, not matter what choice he made, but he also knew that Roy would want him to ‘make the right call’, and spare Willis.

Jason heaved an exasperated sigh as he slowly drew the gun back. He grunted then, when Willis punched him in the stomach, trying to wrestle the gun from his hand. The two wrestled over the gun until it went off; Willis stumbled backward, having been shot in the stomach. He clutched at his stomach, blood coating his hands.

“You…can’t do…this…this isn’t my end,” Willis muttered, stumbling toward the exist before collapsing to the ground. “I can’t…” The man died moments later and Jason just stood there and watched. He turned to Bruce and shrugged his shoulders.

“It was an accident. You saw what happened, right?” He said in an even tone. Bruce glared at him, but otherwise, didn’t speak.

“Ungh. What happened?” Dick asked moments later as he pulled himself back onto his feet, rubbing his head.

“It’s over,” Bruce said simply. Dick noted Willis’ corpse on the floor, then opened his mouth to object. “He killed himself trying to wrestle Jason’s gun away,” Bruce interrupted. Dick closed his mouth and nodded. He made his way over to Jason, wincing in pain and clutching his side; it felt like he had a cracked rib.

Jason was still staring at his father’s corpse, when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. He looked over at Dick who wore a look of concern.

“You gonna be okay, Little Wing?” Jason snorted in amusement and a smirk tugged at his lips, despite himself.

“You haven’t called me that in years,” he replied. Dick smiled a bit. “But yeah, I’ll be okay. My father was a jackass. Certainly not a person I’ve ever felt any kind of affection for. Besides, I have a better family,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Alright, now let’s get out of here.”

“Wait, what do we do about this place?” came Oracle’s voice. Bruce was standing in front of one of the computers with his cowl off, having granted Oracle access to the systems. “There’s a literal treasure trove of information here; more intel than you could possibly imagine. In the right hands--” Oracle began, but The Question cut her off.

“There are no right hands. This place is George Orwell’s worst nightmare. Destroy it. No being alive should have this much power,” The Question said smoothly.

“Agreed. Right, _Batman_?” Jason asked, wrapping an arm around Dick’s waist to help him walk easier. Bruce’s brow furrowed a bit as he considered the possibilities. It occurred to him that Brother Eye was likely floating in space above them; a vision he’d had, completed and ready to be used.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Now,” Dick said sternly. Bruce looked up at him and frowned. “This ‘Brother Eye’ that you created? Look at what it did in the wrong hands. Even ignoring that, think about what such a device _even means_. It’s wrong, and I think you know that.”

A silence filled the room as Bruce stared at a computer screen; they were all waiting to find our what he’d do, to find out what his answer would be. Bruce heaved a sigh and pulled his cowl back on.

“You’re…right. We should destroy this place. All of it.” Bruce began punching in commands on the console, sending off an evacuation order, then pointed toward the exit. “We have to leave, now. I’ve programmed the Brother Eye satellite to crash into this location. It’ll destroy everything. So we need to leave now.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Jason said, turning to the exit with Dick. The Question came up on his other side to help them move faster, with Bruce at the forefront, and Damian behind them. The alarms blared loudly as the mercenaries rushed to evacuate the facility, seemingly ignoring the vigilantes in their bid to escape. The five of them made their way out of the ship as the satellite gleamed in the air, signaling its entrance into the atmosphere. They rushed toward the plane and boarded quickly.

“Tim, get us out of here now!” Bruce called, Tim starting the engine and taking off into the air as everyone got seated. As the plane flew up into the air, he quickly switched places with Bruce, who gunned the engine. They watched from a safe distance, as the satellite crashed into the ground and exploded, the ground caving and destroying the ship beneath it.

“You made the right call,” Dick said softly, flashing Bruce a smile.

* * *

 

_One week later...  
_

Jason and Roy came down the stairs in civilian clothes, their hair a little disheveled, and made their way into the room where everyone was gathered.

“Sorry, Roy and I were just--”

“Screwing?” Dick asked with a smirk and an arched eyebrow. Jason grinned at him as Roy straightened out his hair.

“Napping. We were napping, Goldie,” Jason replied. Roy gave a yawn and playfully ribbed him in the side with his elbow.

“Let him have his fantasy, Jaybird. Bet he’s imagining himself between the two of us--”

“Okay, you win, I surrender!” Dick called desperately, blushing crimson. Jason and Roy laughed and flopped down onto the couch beside him, Dick on Jason’s left, and Roy on the right.

“Can’t handle the heat, Dickie, get out of the--” Jason began.

“-Sheets,” Roy interrupted, laughing when Jason jabbed him in the side with his elbow. Dick blushed crimson and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Why do I associate with you?”

“Hey, you’re the idiot who insists on being my best friend,” Roy teased, earning a laugh from Dick. Damian rolled his eyes and rounded the couch to sit beside Dick, while Tim followed him, sitting in an arm chair.

“Hey, thanks again for inviting me to this Family movie night or, whatever,” Roy said with a genuine smile, playfully elbowing Jason in the side.

“Hey, if I have to put up with these fuckers--”

“Language Master Jason,” Alfred scolded. Jason flashed an apologetic smile.

“--then you have to put up with them, too.”

“Face it Jaybird, you like putting up with us,” Tim teased. Jason sighed and gave a shrug of his shoulders.

“Yeah, well, you got me there.”

“Where is father?” Damian asked, arching an eyebrow as Alfred began setting up the TV. Alfred turned to Damian and gestured toward the grandfather clock.

“Master Bruce is finishing up some work in the cave, and will be with us shortly.”

Down in the cave, Bruce sat in front of the computer. He stared at the screen while his fingers glided over the keyboard, finishing up an investigation into a double homicide. Once that was done, he closed the programs down and began typing in some new commands.

Upon finishing, Bruce stared up at the screen, fingers interlocked, as a red eye appeared on his screen…


End file.
